


I Could Have Been Your Girl

by kissmelikeapirate



Category: New Girl
Genre: Angst, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmelikeapirate/pseuds/kissmelikeapirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been three years since she realised he would never be the right man for her. What she needed. But when Nick Miller unexpectedly re-enters her life, all her ideas about wants and needs are going to get turned upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Have Been Your Girl

**Prologue – Breaking up is hard to do**

"Niiiccckkkkk!" Her voice rang loud and clear throughout the apartment and abruptly woke him from his slumber. Initially, the haze of sleep still rested over him and he didn't know where he was or when it was. Turning, he sat up and saw he was in his room, fully clothed and lying on his bed. He picked up his phone and looked at the time, 5:00pm. He inwardly groaned as the realization hit – he had overslept.

Quickly scrambling out of his bed, he rubbed his face in an attempt to wipe away the last of his drowsiness. As he reached for the door of his room it swung open, nearly hitting his face and he was confronted by the sight of a very angry, very flustered Jess. He swallowed as he tried to remember what he had done wrong – the fog of tiredness still clouding his mind and his memory, but before he could ponder on the subject for too long she spoke.

"Nick, where the hell have you been?" she breathed heavily as she spoke – she was clearly maddened.

"I, er…" he began, still wracking his brain for what he had or hadn't done.

"I waited for you at school and when you didn't turn up I had to get a cab but it was too late!" she said, her large eyes moistening slightly as she spoke. Slowly, realisation dawned upon him. S _hit, I was supposed to pick her up._

"Aw, Jess, I'm sorry, I guess I fell asleep..." he replied, feeling intensely guilty.

"You fell asleep? You fell asleep? On one of the day of the most important interview I've had in a year?"

Tears were now beginning to fall freely from Jessica's eyes as her breathing began to be wracked with soft sobs. He longed to wrap his arms around her and comfort her, as he always did when she was upset. Moving towards her, he went to take her in his arms when she placed a firm hand upon his chest and pushed him away. "What are you doing? You can't just pick me up and make this all better Nick!"

Lost for words, he didn't know how to respond. He had borrowed Jess's car, as his was not working – nothing unusual there. That day he had taken her to work and headed to the bar for inventory and was meant to pick her up from school at 3pm and drive her to an interview. The interview. Placing her head in her hands, she slowly slid to the floor, leaning her back on the doorframe of his room. Matching her pose, he moved to sit down on the floor next to her and waited, scared, for her to speak again.

"That was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I blew it. Those kinds of jobs hardly ever come up. It was my dream…" His heart broke as he saw the hot, salty tears fall from her eyes and splash upon the cold, hard floor.

"I'm so sorry Jess, I was tired so I took a nap and I guess I slept through," she kept her head down as he spoke, avoiding her gaze, "Look, I'll fix this. Surely we can get you another interview?"

"You don't understand," she said, finally looking at him, "I had to pull in some huge favors just to get this one. It's impossible. I've always wanted to work at Jefferson, it's the leading arts school in the state Nick!"

The gravity of his mistake hit Nick like a ton of bricks. He sharply took in a breath of air as he racked his brain for some way to make this right.

"Maybe if I called them and explained, said I was ill or something…"

"When you didn't call I took a cab there, I arrived just as they were closing up. They said it was too late," she shook her head as she spoke, wiping her face on the sleeve of her cardigan. She started to stand up.

"Look, Jess, I'm sorry. I screwed up," he looked up at her with pleading eyes.

"Yeah Nick, you did," she said sadly as she walked away.

Worried, he quickly got to his feet and followed her into her room. She was sitting on her bed, staring at the floor.

"Jess, I'm so sorry, I mean, I've just been working so many shifts lately. I'm so tired all the time. I know it's a lame excuse but it's all I've got," he stood in the doorway and watched her apprehensively.

"Yeah, it's pretty lame. But really, what should I have expected, you're not known for your reliability Miller," she said bitterly. The bleakness of her voice was like a cold slap in the face to him. All this extra work, all his attempts to improve himself had been for her. For them.

"That's a bit harsh Jess, I have apologised," he said. She looked up at him, her face crumpled in concentration.

"Yeah Nick, you always apologise. Every time something goes wrong you say, 'I'm sorry' and me, the fool I am, just give you a kiss on the head and say it will be alright." A cold chill began to run through his veins – worried where this was heading.

"What are you trying to say Jess?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing…I mean, I don't know…" she sighed heavily, pausing for a moment "I don't know if I can do this anymore Nick. I need a man, someone reliable, someone I can count on…" His heart skipped a beat.

"Jessica, everything I have been doing for the past year has been to make myself better – for you. All the extra work, the night classes, it's all been for our future," his voice began to slightly rise as anxiety began to flood his body.

"Yes, and what difference has that made, Nick? We're still in pretty much the same situation we were twelve months ago," she ran her hands through her hair and fixed her eyes upon his in a cold stare. His mind went blank. He wanted to tell her that he was interviewing for the manager's position at the bar next week, that he had been saving for her. To buy her something – an engagement ring to be exact. But the words would not come.

"What do you want from me Jessica?" he asked.

"I don't know Nick. Maybe you can't give me what I want. What I need," her voice began to shake.

"But Jess, I love you… I'd do anything for you," he said, his own words cracking under the strain of his emotion.

"Sometimes that's not enough though is it?" she looked up at him with her glassy, reddened eyes and his heart began to tear in two. "Look, can you leave me alone for a while? I need to think."

Silently he nodded as he left the room, closing the door behind him. He rested his back on the hallway wall as panic began to descend. It was over, he knew it. Maybe she hadn't said it exactly, but he was certain in that moment that he had lost Jessica Day forever.

* * *

**Back**

* * *

The cart was piled high; most of his worldly belongings packed into four oversized suitcases. He steered it unsteadily towards the automatic doors that led to the arrivals area, both anxious and happy at the same time. As the exit opened, he felt a warm gust of air rush over his body. The sun had yet to warm the chill of the Chicago spring so this was a firm reminder that he was back in Southern California.

Before him was a sea of faces: men, women, children on their parent's shoulders; disinterested limo drivers holding typed paper signs. His eyes darted across the crowd until he settled on the familiar face he was looking for. Instantly, he broke into a wide grin as he spotted Schmidt, standing across the arrivals hall. Breaking into a quick pace, he pushed the cart up to the edge to the barrier where he stood and wrapped his arms around his friend in a bear hug.

"Schmidty!" he exclaimed as he patted his friend on his back, before pulling back, "Man, it's been too, too long."

"Three years Nick, a lot happens in three years!" Schmidt laughed. At that moment, as if on cue, a heavily pregnant Elizabeth appeared through the crowd clutching three bottles of water.

"Elizabeth, wow, you look… you're really, er…" Nick faltered, unsure how to finish.

"Glowing? Pregnant? Fat?" Elizabeth burst into laughter as she handed a bottle each to Schmidt and Nick.

"Thanks," Nick muttered, "What I mean to say was, you look great."

"Aw, thanks Nick, but I know your lying," she replied, grabbing his face and planting a large, damp kiss on his cheek. Schmidt moved around the barrier and took hold of Nick's cart and pushing it towards the exit.

"So, how was your flight?" he asked.

"Terrible. They wanted twelve dollars for a cheese sandwich – can you believe it?" Nick said in disgust.

"Ah, same old, tight fisted Nick…" Schmidt began as they stepped outside into the warm, midday sun.

"I was never tight fisted. To be tight fisted you need money and I had none when I lived in LA," he protested.

"But you do now Mr. Hotshot," chipped in Elizabeth, pulling up beside Nick as they crossed the road to the parking lot.

"I'm not exactly a millionaire," he replied, "But I'm doing okay."

"It must be better than okay if they've asked you to set up a new office here," Schmidt pointed out. Nick went silent, squirming a little. He didn't feel confident celebrating his successes – he was always waiting to be caught out, for something to go wrong. Like it always did.

Sensing his change in mood, Elizabeth gave Schmidt as look as they reached the car and he popped the trunk. "Hey pal, since you haven't ate, how about some lunch before we head back to the apartment?"

"That would be great," Nick smiled, grateful for the change of subject.

* * *

The Pacific Grill was busy and bustling, as to be expected on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. The tables of the restaurant spilled out on to the street and the eclectic selection of diners ate and drank under the shade of wide, blue umbrellas. Inside, large ceiling fans cooled the dining room as waiters dressed in traditional black and white brought out large silver trays filled with food and drink.

They were seated at a table near the entrance. Quickly the server took their order for cool drinks and as they perused the menu, they started to catch up. The trio hadn't seen each other since that day in November, three winters ago, when Nick had packed up his belongings, said his goodbyes and moved back to Chicago.

Schmidt had known that it was coming for weeks but it hadn't eased the pain of the day. After over ten years of living together it was like a small kind of bereavement. But he understood. Ever since Nick and Jessica had broken up, the loft had become a strange no man's land for the both of them. Nick had been the one to break the deadlock; he said his ma needed him in Chicago, she was getting older and was lonely in the big house by herself. They all knew the real reason but no one, not even Winston, tried to make him stay. It was for the best.

Their drinks arrived quickly and they all ordered from the menu, Nick excusing himself soon afterwards. Heading to the restroom, he felt positive. He'd been worried about how he would take it, being back after all this time. It had surprised him how easy and normal it felt, how he had slipped into conversation with Schmidt and Elizabeth as though no time had passed at all. Washing his hands, he smiled at himself in the mirror. This was going to be okay, he could do this.

Pressing the heavy washroom door open, he headed back into the crowded restaurant. Striding back towards the table, he heard a voice calling his name, "Nick! Nick!" Pausing, he looked around the tables, straining to see a familiar face. Then he saw the waving hand of a well-dressed man on the other side of the restaurant, he squinted.

"Steve?" he asked quizzically, moving in the man's direction.

"Nick, man, it's been forever," Steve responded, standing up and grabbing Nick's hand in both of his and pumping it up and down enthusiastically.

"Steve, wow. What you doing here? I thought you lived in New York, didn't you move there after law school?" he asked as Steve gestured for him to sit.

"Yeah, well, I moved back here a couple of years ago, Couldn't take the old NY winters!" Nick relaxed and smiled.

"I just moved back myself, today actually," Nick admitted, "I'm having lunch with friends," he turned and gestured at the table where Elizabeth and Schmidt were gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

"Really? Well welcome back. I'm just waiting for my fiancée," Steve added, looking at his watch, "Actually she is late – she's never late."

"Women, huh?" Nick chuckled.

"So you, uh, seeing anyone?" Steve asked.

"No, no," Nick shook his head, his memory straining back to painful times, "Not for a long time." He paused for a moment.

"Well, now we are back in the same city, we need to talk properly. And, I'm getting married in two months, you gotta come."

"Congratulations! Sure, thanks," Nick agreed, reaching for his wallet, "Hey, here's my card, just give me a call and we'll set up something." Accepting the small blue and white card, Steve raised his eyebrows.

"Event manager? That's a little different than law," he asked, surprised.

"Yeah, it's a weird story actually-"

He was cut off as Steve suddenly stood up and his face broke into a large smile. "Babe, you're late," he moved forward, stepping behind Nick who turned around to see him embracing a small girl in a red coat, tumbling chocolate waves hanging over her shoulders. She looked a little like…

As they stepped apart her face emerged from behind the curtain of hair, she swung her head and tossed the dark curls over her shoulder as she shrugged off her coat. Steve whispered something in her ear and he saw that familiar smile, those often explored lips. His heart began to race as her face slowly turned towards him and their eyes met. Those hypnotic, pacific blue eyes he would know anywhere. All of a sudden he felt his stomach drop and his mind flood with emotion. It was her. Jess. Jessica Day. The love of his life.

* * *

Skipping along the sidewalk, she chastised herself; she was never late! Soaking up the feeling of the warm sunshine on her face, she dodged the obstacles of people and vendors as she approached the packed Pacific Grill.

Quickly, she ran inside, breathless. She saw Steve immediately at this usual table and was surprised to see he wasn't alone. Rushing over she pulled him into a warm hug, apologising for her tardiness as he held her close and he told her he had a friend for her to meet. Eagerly, she tugged off her coat. She didn't often meet old friends of Steve's, most of them lived in New York or his hometown in Massachussets.

As she turned to meet his friend, she felt a surge of familiarity grow inside her. From the back he looked a little, like, well… Okay, so he was a little broader and his hair a little neater but… Slowly, he twisted around, his hand held out ready to greet her. She lifted her own arm, braced her face in a smile as finally their eyes met. Her mouth dropped; her eyes widened. It was him. Nick Miller. The guy she never got over. The man who broke her heart.

* * *

**Dinner**

* * *

The lights at the intersection suddenly turned red and Nick had to slam on the brakes, narrowly avoiding hitting the Chevy in front. A little shaken, he tried to extract himself from those thoughts that had been so distracting to him. Thoughts of the events that happened three years ago.

* * *

The tears. That was the first thing he recalled. The salty tang of warm fluid flowing freely, leaving sodden skin in its wake, as gravity pushed it towards the ground, finally splashing in little drops on the wooden floor.

The next thing was pain; pure physical pain in the pit of his stomach as the words hit him like punches, knocking the air from his lungs and paralyzing him as he sat on her bed, the familiar feeling of the patchwork comforter underneath his fingers as he bunched it in his hands.

"I can't do this anymore," she'd said. Just like that, five simple words had caused this reaction. They weren't unexpected words - coming as they did after weeks of awkward conversations, promises to change and finally the exchange of raised words. But when it came down to the final death knell of their relationship it had been those five words, so wounding and powerful, that had dealt the final blow.

To his credit, he had not protested. Not begged, not pleaded once more that things could be different,  _would_  be different; in all, that he could be something other than what he was. However in the cruel realization of his early fears it seemed Jessica Day had finally given up on them; on him.

The finer details of ending the relationship had been handled rather amicably. The next day he had told her he was moving out, away, home. Ma needed him. She didn't argue, whether she thought this to be true or not. Packing away his things he also had, he thought, packed away his heart that cool November weekend in the loft. Locked it away somewhere deep inside where no one could hurt it. The only key belonging to someone whom he would likely never see again.

The day he left California, he erased her number, deleted the pictures that had accumulated on his barely functioning laptop, willed the information and memories in his head to fade quickly. And most of all, tried to forget her.

* * *

Steam filled the kitchen as a pot of pasta bubbled away on the stove, her glasses fogged and she quickly removed them, wiping away the damp residue with the soft material of her apron. Leaning back against the counter top, she sighed. Her stomach felt unsettled, making her whole body a little shaky, like she hadn't eaten all day. This attempt at cooking was her way of distracting herself for what was to come in the next hour or so. Nick Miller, in her apartment, eating dinner with her and her fiancé.  _Oh boy,_ she thought.

* * *

"Nick!" she had cried upon seeing the face of the man who held out his hand to her - confirming the fears that had gathered as she approached the table. She had jumped, as if from a small electrical shock, when his hand had grazed hers, him pausing a second before wrapping her small hand in his.

"Jess," he had said, in a strained, high-pitched voice - one she recognized that he used when he was surprised or anxious. Oh, how quickly the memories of old lovers' quirks return. Steve had been surprised to see they already knew each other. A glance passed between the two, one that both understood to mean -  _what do we say?_

Jess was first to respond, without much thought telling him, "We were roommates for a while," she said, plastering a large smile on her face, her mind doing overtime, "Years ago," she quickly added.

"Small world," Steve chuckled in reply, "Nick and I went to law school together."

"Oh really," she said, her voice trailing off and mind wandering. All the while she could feel the burn of his gaze, looking her over. All the while wanting to know what he was thinking.

Once the initial greetings had ended, Nick had made excuses to leave, explaining that he had friends waiting for him. Not before Steve had extended an invitation to dinner the next evening at their apartment. She could see the strain in his voice as he tried to decline the offer but he was quickly rebuffed by the other man's coercion, and agreed to be there by seven.

* * *

Double checking the address on his phone, he turned off the engine and pulled the key out of the ignition. The rental car smelt of pine air freshener and new carpet, it was clean and functional yet unfamiliar and strange. His fingers rubbed against the leather cover of the steering wheel as he steeled himself for what he expected to be a very strange evening.

It had only been a little over a day since the chance meeting in the restaurant and his mind had been preoccupied by little else. She still looked the same, dressed the same, smelt the same. As if no time had passed and nothing had changed, though of course it had- least of all she had a fiancé and that fiancé was an old friend of his.

A large part of him wanted to decline Steve's invitation, really – what good could come of it? He could have put it off, made excuses, let the rekindled friendship eventually peter out and dissolve once more. But that tug, that pull, she had always had over him – even before they got together – had overrode this side of him. So here he was, parked outside the apartment of his ex and his old friend waiting to go inside for a home cooked meal.

Scoffing, he shook his head – this was ridiculous! He knew it was wrong; knew so when he lied to Elizabeth and Schmidt telling them he had plans with an old friend, even more so when he selected a black button down with rolled up sleeves and the cologne he knew she used to love.

Getting ready to step out of the car he prepared himself-  _you go, have dinner, find out how she is, make polite goodbyes then you leave her alone._  Yes, he told himself, that was the plan. Then you slip out of her life. LA is a pretty big place; he would make sure his new apartment was far away. The chances of seeing her again were minimal.

* * *

He rubbed his face nervously with one hand, the other clutching an expensive bottle of red wine as he shifted his feet and waited for the door to open. A wave of relief flooded him as he saw it was Steve who answered. "Hey pal, so glad you could make it," giving him the typical man bear hug and relieving Nick of the green, glass bottle.

The apartment was small, but stylish. Steve took his coat and went off to collect Nick a drink, leaving him to stand and contemplate. The furniture was a mixture of fashionable pieces and the kind of old, vintage things that Jess used to find at garage sales. On the walls were a mixture of art prints and, catching a breath, he noticed small touches that had once been inhabitants of her bedroom in the loft.

The sound of footsteps approaching caused him to turn and see Steve clutching two glasses of red wine, "Jess is just finishing up, let's head to the table and she'll join us there." Nodding, he followed Steve, taking small sips of his wine as he walked.

* * *

"So that's how I ended up moving to LA, what, two and a half years ago? I tried looking you up when I got back but that friend of yours – Winston? Well, he said you'd moved back home." Nick nodded, in agreement.

"Yes, probably only a few months before you actually," he smiled, his hands rubbing the linen napkin on the table; he was eager to see her. He had been at the house for 15 minutes and nothing so far.

Then, as if she knew, she appeared, "Hey, sorry about the wait," came her melodic voice from the doorway behind him, "Dinner is served, fettuccine a la Day," she finished as she placed a large bowl of pasta in the centre of the table next to the already waiting salad and bread.

"Oh honey, that looks fantastic," Steve murmured as he pulled her close to him and placed a kiss on her hand. Nick squirmed in discomfort. Disentangling herself, she began to serve out generous portions. "Nick was just explaining how he left LA," he explained as she worked.

"Oh," she said absentmindedly, though he could hear the nervous tic in her voice.

"Yeah, I needed a change," Nick offered.

"Well you certainly got one!" Steve replied, "How did you get into events? It seems so obscure!"

Nick took the offered plate from Jess, noticing how she avoided his eyes and began to add some salad to it. "Well, when I moved home, I had to find work. A guy I went to school with needed casual staff – waiters, bartenders and the like - for his new company, organizing events. So, that's what I did. Turned out, it was a good business and before I knew it I was working full time. Then, about a year after I moved, he asked me to become a manager in the business, part owner in fact; weirdly it seemed I had some kind of knack for it," he finished this section of the story by twirling some creamy pasta onto his fork and shoveling it into his mouth.

"And now you're back in LA?" Jess said, finally speaking, clearly a question, but perhaps not the question that the casual observer would think it was.

"Yes, we are expanding to LA, and since I'd lived here for over ten years it made sense," he explained.

"So you're back for good?" she spoke again, this time raising her eyes from her plate to meet his.

"If all goes well…" he trailed off, drinking in those familiar watery blue eyes as he spoke.

* * *

As she silently listened to the conversation that passed between the two old friends, offering the occasional polite interjection, she studied the familiar man sat at the end of her dinner table. He looked the same, yet, strangely different. Somehow he seemed taller, although she knew that was impossible. Maybe more confident, self-assured? His shoulders were straighter, broader and he seemed a little more slender in the body as the black shirt he wore hung a little looser than her memories recollected.

Chewing on a mouthful of green salad, she listened as his familiar voice drawled on about the perils of the event management world – missing caterers, no-show servers, double-booked venues. His voice was light, almost carefree. Not like the last time they had spoken: those short years seeming so long ago in this moment.

The shrill sound of the telephone ringing put pause to the conversation, "I'd better get it guys, I'm expecting an important call from a client," Steve apologized as he pushed his chair back and headed into the next room.

A still filled the air as the two remaining occupants ate silently, the only noise the crunch of salad and the scrape of silverware on porcelain. Finally, he spoke, "Jess, I'm so sorry about intruding on you…" he looked over at her with pleading eyes.

Eventually, she looked up, swallowing, "No, I'm sorry, I should have insisted you couldn't make it…" she bit her lip as long supressed feelings began to stir a little inside her, "But it is good to see you. It's been too long."

"Yeah, too long," he echoed, "So you never told him about-"

"No," she shook her head, "We met about a year later and it didn't seem… didn't seem…" she took a deep breath, "I didn't want to talk about it," she admitted, giving him a small smile.

"Oh," he nodded, "Well, I guess we don't need to tell him. It's in the past. Way in the past. But it's great to see you too."

Another awkwardness fell. She hadn't told him about Nick- why hadn't she wanted to? Was she embarrassed? Was she something else? It was true though, seeing her, for the first time in almost three years was great. More than great, fantastic. He had missed her.

"I missed ya Jess," he spoke, barely above a whisper as her fork paused half way between her plate and her mouth, "I should have stayed in touch, called-"

"Stop," she begged in a small voice, "It's over, done Nick. You don't need to apologize." She finally placed the fork in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before adding, "But, if it means anything, I did miss you too."

"Guys, sorry that took so long," came Steve's loud New York accent as he returned to the room and broke the chill film of tension that had descended. "Who's for more wine?"

* * *

Another glass of wine and a slice of homemade cheesecake later and the trio were sat in the comfortable leather chairs of lounge, sipping coffee and tea, talking.

"So, you two are engaged," Nick said, finally letting his curiosity descend.

"Yes," Steve replied, placing a hand on Jess's knee and squeezing it, "I'm a lucky guy."

"Very lucky," Nick echoed, shifting in his chair.

"It only happened last month," he continued, "But this little missy has her heart set on a summer wedding. So, we have two months to make it happen."

Nick let out a low whistle, "Two months for a wedding, that's tight."

"Yeah, but I have to give my princess what she wants."

"Oh don't call me that," Jess protested, "You know I hate it."

"I can't help if it's true," he shrugged. "Hey, wait, I have an idea. You need new clients, we need help to set this thing up and we're all old friends - why don't you help organize everything? It'll be perfect."

Shocked, Nick had not expected this turn of events, "Well, geez, I dunno, you see we're only just starting here…" he shrugged a little, his eyes flashing to Jess and seeing mirrored alarm in her stare.

"Oh come on, help a friend out! You're obviously good at what you do. You know, I think fate led us to be at the same restaurant as you yesterday. Destiny. You gotta do it!"

Unwittingly Nick found himself agreeing to his friend's suggestion, ignoring the pallor that her skin took on as the words tumbled from his lips and Steve stepped up to shake his hand in thanks.

"So what first?" he asked as he sat down.

"Do you have a venue?" Nick asked, going into autopilot, still dazed by what was happening.

"Jess had mentioned somewhere," Steve replied, turning to her.

"Yeah," she spoke in a small voice, "I have some ideas…."

"Great, well, Jess since you work less hours than me, why don't you meet Nick later in the week, start hashing out ideas?" he suggested, his voice an excited babble.

"W-what? Don't you want to help plan it?" she asked, almost choking on a mouthful of tea.

"Oh babe, I trust ya, and let's be honest, I'll just say yes to whatever you want."

"Okay," she agreed, placing down her cup onto a nearby coaster, "That sounds good to me." She laced her fingers into Steve's and gave him a tight smile.

* * *

It was late when he left, darkness had fallen over the streets as he trudged back to his unfamiliar car, releasing the lock and sliding inside. He had survived three hours in a room with the girl who had broken his heart. For that he applauded himself. But how- why- had he agreed to help plan their wedding? Clearly, he had gone crazy for a moment. It wasn't fate or destiny, it was insanity.

But deep down, he did feel a little buzz of excitement. He was going to see her again; he had a legitimate excuse to spend time with her. And oh, how he had missed her.

* * *

Washing the wine glasses they had used that evening, she paused when she picked up his glass. Staring at the rim, she could see the faint marks where his lips had touched the crystal. She ran her finger across them, imagining it was in fact his lips she was touching. Closing her eyes, memories of those lips flooded her, the feel on her skin, the late night whispers, the declarations of love…

_Stop!_ She told herself. No. You ended things for a reason. Now she found herself in this strange situation where her ex was helping to plan her wedding. Straightening her back she plunged the glass into the hot soapy water and scrubbed furiously at the imprint, willing it to disappear.  _I can handle this, I can_ she thought. And amazingly, a little part of her actually believed she could. A little.

* * *

**Friends**

* * *

Shovelling another spoon of cornflakes into his mouth, Nick crunched the golden cereal as he flicked through the sports pages of the LA Times. The kitchen was empty; the only sound the quiet drone of the small radio on the countertop, filling the air with the voice of a DJ who was far too lively for eight am.

"Hey, Mr Sleepyhead," came Elizabeth's soft voice as she padded into the kitchen, opening the fridge door and pulling out a carton of orange juice, "What ya doing up so early?"

"Hey Elizabeth," he replied with a small yawn, "Busy day ahead," he explained as she poured herself a glass of juice and took a seat the breakfast bar next to him. "How's baby Schmidt doing?" he asked gesturing to the large bump between her and the table.

Gently, she rubbed her stomach with one hand, a smile curling at her lips, "Ah this little sucker has kept me up half the night doing somersaults, clearly they are going to take after their father," they both laughed softly. "I can't believe it's only a few weeks until we meet the little guy, or gal," she added.

"It's exciting," Nick nodded, a little sadly, his eyes glazing over a little. Elizabeth turned to look at him and observed his expression.

"Do you want to have kids one day?" she asked quietly. He pursed his lips and shrugged a little, pulling his cup of coffee closer to him as he mulled over words.

"Maybe. Maybe the chance has passed," he said honestly before take a sip of his drink.

"You'll meet the right girl, one day soon," she said, placing a soft hand on his shoulder and squeezing it a little, "In fact, I bet that girl is just around the corner." Nick chortled a little, picking up his bowl and going to place it in the sink. "On a lighter note, what possible plans could have Mr Miller up before 10am? I thought you events people were all the night-owl sort?"

He returned to her, placing one hand on the table and using the other scoop up his still warm coffee. "Well, I have a job lined up," he answered.

"Wow, here a week and already you have your first client, well done," she said, giving him a small high five.

"Yeah, actually, you know the person," Nick said - the words leaving his lips before he even knew what he was doing.

"I do?" she asked, a little confused.

"Er, yeah, it's Jess."

"Jess-?"

"Jess," he repeated. A slow dawn of realisation crossed Elizabeth's face; her mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed as she moved her face a little closer to his.

"Jess, your ex Jess?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"Uh-huh," he confirmed, nodding his head and placing his empty cup next to the bowl in the sink.

"Wait, what? How-how? I mean, are you crazy?" she was beginning to babble a little, struggling to get her words out; he reached out and put a hand on her arm in an effort to calm her – he didn't want any baby being born early on his watch.

"Hey, calm down," he hushed.

"But, how? Why?

"I bumped into her the other day. And her fiancé. They want some help organising their wedding."

"What?!" she cried, spitting out a little orange juice with her outburst, "Now I know you are insane! Why on earth did you agree to that?"

"Relax," he said with a small shrug, "I'm just helping them find a venue and a few other things, I need to start somewhere."

"But it's her and you and… Does Schmidt know?"

He sighed and turned to her, "No, he doesn't and Elizabeth I'd really appreciate if you didn't tell him, at least not yet anyway," he pleaded. She locked gaze with him and saw the honesty in his face.

"Fine, I won't – at least not straight away –but I am going on record as saying this is a very, very bad idea Nick," she slid off her stool and faced him, "I'm going to take another nap. Just promise me one thing?" she asked, looking at him sadly.

"Sure."

"Just don't go falling for her again; you know what happened last time."

"No problem," he smiled, "That's all in the past." She walked off, looking at him over her shoulder as she went, really hoping, but not really believing, that what he said was true.

* * *

She engulfed Cece in a large hug before placing a small kiss on each cheek. Happily, they then both settled into a chair at the small, cloth adorned table. The tea shop was bustling with patrons although it wasn't yet nine am; she could see the multitude of eyes turning to look at her glamorous friend, dressed in signature black, her neat bob silky and shiny – a head turner wherever she went.

"I feel like I haven't seen you for ages!" Cece cried as she placed her purse on the table and pushed up her large, dark sunglasses.

"Well you are the big time fashion stylist! I feel like I'm going to have to start paying for your time in order to get to see you more often," Jess laughed as she picked up the small, flower laden menu.

"Haha, very funny! You know this time of year is always busy, people getting their summer wardrobes together and all that… And on that note, when are we going dress shopping?"

Jess smiled, blushing a little.  _Dress shopping,_ it all sounded so crazy, she had just gotten used to the idea of being engaged and now… "I don't know, but I've always wanted a summer wedding so I guess it can't be too soon."

"Well why not today? I know some great little boutiques we could go to and later maybe we could go shoe shopping-"

"Oh, I can't today, I have, er, plans," Jess mumbled.

"Plans? You never said you had plans today – Steve's at work, schools out, so-"

"Actually, I'm going to look at some possible venues," she said, gesturing to the waitress that they were ready to order.

"Really? Then I can come, it'll be fun!" Cece replied excitedly.

"Well, you see, someone is already coming with me…"

"Who?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Nick," she squeaked as the waitress arrived at the table. Both women ordered quickly, eyes flashing at each other across the table until the menus were removed and the two were alone again.

"Nick? Nick  _Miller_ , Nick?" she hissed.

"Um, yep, that'd be the one," she said, ducking her head.

"What the hell? I'm confused; I thought he was in Chicago? How? I mean, wait, let me try and get this straight…"Jess reached over the table and placed a hand on top of Cece's, giving her an earnest stare.

"Okay, calm down. Short story – he is back, turns out he is an old friend of Steve's and he works as an event manager. Steve asked him to help," she explained. Cece lowered her head and spoke in a firm whisper.

"And he said yes? And why didn't you say no?" Jess squirmed a little in her seat, feeling a hot flush as Cece's questioning began to get to her.

"I, well, I dunno… But Cece, you know we are just friends. I love Steve. And you know Steve doesn't know about my history with Nick and-and I couldn't think of an excuse to get out of it- and-" Cece gave her friend a sad look as she saw the worry cross her face. "I know it's weird, very weird, but we are just friends, I mean - it's been years."

"It has," Cece agreed. The two were silent as a pot of tea, scones and tea cups were placed in front of them. The each silent poured a cup as they waited for the other to speak. "Jess, are you sure this is a good idea. I mean, things ended so… you know."

"I know," she said, nodding as she stirred her drink, "And I'd be lying if I said this wasn't' strange. But Cece, there is nothing between us anymore. Really."

"Uh-huh," Cece nodded, but not believing her friend for a second, "Okay, just be careful, will ya?"

Jess smiled, "Sure. C'mon, let's talk about something else. What have you been up to?" she finished as she placed a butter and jelly topped scone into her mouth, glad to change the topic of conversation.

* * *

For once in his life Nick Miller was early- very early. He'd arranged, via perfunctory text message, to meet Jess at local park to scope out outdoor venues for the ceremony and he waited nervously by his rental car in the parking lot as streams of families, joggers and dog walkers passed him on their way inside. The warm spring sunshine beat down on his shoulders, chilling the thaw brought on by the icy climatic control in the car. He leant back his head, letting his face soak up some of the warm, Southern California sun he had so missed. His hands were preoccupied with his set of keys, his finger placed in the silver hoop that held them together, spinning them round as he stood.

"Hey," she said as she walked up to him, hands in the pockets of her bright blue mac.

"Hey," he nodded, a smile emerging on both their lips as they nervously stood only feet away from each other.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologised.

"I was early," he admitted.

"Early?" she exclaimed, "The Nick Miller I knew would have been late for his own funeral," she laughed.

"Yeah, well this is the newer, slightly improved version," he said in a low voice and she felt a little shiver of tension spread through her spine.

"So," she said to break the tension, "Shall we go?" she pointed to the park entrance.

"Sure," he said, gesturing for her to go first. He watched her small figure walk ahead, her stocking clad legs ending in small shoes that clicked as she walked. Swallowing, he followed her, wishing the racing of his heart to still a little.

They stood in the little bandstand at the centre of the park and watched the people milling around, enjoying the day. Her hands rested on the wooded railing as he walked around, trying to envisage the area set up for an event.

"So you are sure this is for hire?" he asked, as he made notes on a small note pad.

"Pretty sure, I saw a wedding here last summer – the ceremony was here," she gestured to where they were standing, "And the guests sat at the bottom of the stairs."

"Hmm," he said, scratching his head as he thought. "I'll have to contact the park authorities and find out the deal before we can start thinking seating etc. But I think this could work well," he said turning to her with a smile.

A soft wind blew across them, rustling the leaves in the nearby trees, bringing them both into the moment. "Nick, I just want to say, I know this is an unusual situation but thank you," she said sincerely.

"No idea what you are talking about," he replied making them both laugh.

"Can't stop making jokes can you Miller," she chided him.

"Not all the time," he admitted and they locked eyes, something passing between them in this moment. He cleared his throat and spoke again, "But no problem, Steve was always a good friend and you, well you…"

"Me?" she prompted, he heart swelling a little at the prospect of his next words.

"You… Well you're you," he finished simply, silently remonstrating himself for such a lame response.

"Oh," she said, pushing her hands into her pockets. "Hey, it's almost lunch, how about we head for a bite to eat?" she suggested, cocking her head a little as she spoke in the way that was so familiar to him.

"Okay," he agreed, pushing the notebook into his pocket, wishing the rising tension he felt growing between them was in his imagination.

* * *

The red leather diner booth was divided by a lacquered, metal edged table. They sat opposite each other, each perusing an oversized, laminated menu covered in colourful pictures of burgers and salads.

They ordered and the waitress left them with a pitcher of water and two plastic glasses. "You want some?" she asked, gesturing to it.

"Yeah that would be great," he nodded.

Silently, she filled each one, before slowly sliding his over to him with her left hand. His eye caught a glimpse of a flash as she slowly slid her fingers back to her side of the table. "So that's the ring," he asked quietly.

"That it is," she replied, lifting her hand to observe the large, sparkling diamond before covering her left hand with her right.

"It's pretty big," he pointed out.

"Steve says it's an investment," Jess replied, though half-pursed lips, "To be honest I'm scared to wear it most of the time," she chuckled as she rubbed her fingers over the large solitaire diamond.

"I always thought you would go for something a bit different, unusual you know, maybe even antique…" he said, his voice trailing off as he felt the somewhat intimate nature of this line of conversation.

"Well, um-" she blushed. He was right, when Steve had presented her with the large, two carat diamond she had plastered on a large smile – any girl would have been thrilled with such a prize. But deep down, she'd felt a tinge of disappointment, disappointment that he had chosen what he would like, rather than she would. "Well, he chose it and I like it."

The food arrived after a brief conversation – Nick told her a little about his work, she explained how she was now head of English at her school and how she missed working with children every day. The tension broke a little as they reminisced about days in the loft – Schmidt's douchebag jar, Winston's useless pranks. The food arrived and they each began to eat.

"So you moved out just after me, then," he said as he picked up his burger.

"Yes, it just felt, weird, living there. I felt bad though, for Winston and Schmidt," she admitted.

"Yeah, good thing Elizabeth and Coach moved in. Actually, did I tell you I'm staying with Elizabeth and Schmidt now?"

"No," she shook her head, "How are they, it's been so long…"

"Well she's pregnant – very pregnant in fact," he smiled, "Schmidt pretty hyped up about being a father."

"I'd bet," she laughed as she munched on a fry, "Wow, him a dad, I'd never thought it."

There was a little silence as they ate.

"How about you and Steve-any plans for, you know," he asked a little nervously.

"Oh," she said, surprised at his question, "Well, I don't know, I mean-"

"I'm sorry," he winced, "That was a real awkward question for me to ask. Sometimes I still like to keep my foot firmly located in my mouth," he finished pulling a side smile.

"No, it's fine. But to be honest, we haven't talked about it really. What about you, any, uh, ladies left behind in Chicago?" there, she'd asked him the question that had been burning in the back of her mind. She quickly lowered her eyes and took a sip of her water as she waited for him to respond.

"No. No one since…" Their eyes met and she knew what he was going to say without him having to finish his sentence. So she was his last, the last woman, who…

"Oh, I thought some girl would have snapped you up by now," she said, trying to lighten the tension.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief. Was this the same Jess who thought he couldn't change, thought he could never be the serious type - someone to get serious with?

"Yeah," she replied quietly. She licked her lips and tasted the salt from the fries as she eyed him, thumbing the napkin between his fingers. "Nick, you seem different. I don't know what it is, but you do," she admitted.

"I'd like to think I've grown up a little," he said flashing her a smile, "But you seem exactly the same. But then, you were always perfect to me."

She blushed, "Oh stop," biting her lip to hide a creeping smile caused by his compliment.

They both felt, in that moment, as though time had turned back, back more than three years. To a time when things hadn't got complicated and messy, when they had been at ease with one another.

"This is nice," he said simply.

"Yeah, it is," she replied.

* * *

Their day together ended after a little more venue searching – visiting hotels and restaurants that she liked. Before they knew it, it was almost three pm and they had spent most of the day together. Leaving the last restaurant, they began to walk to their respective cars- parked around the corner from the busy street.

Jess's car was first and they paused when they reached it, standing close together next to her door as she fumbled for her keys. Her fingers finally grasped the cool, metallic bundle and she raised her eyes to meet his, her mouth suddenly feeling dry, her mind blank.

"So I guess I'll contact a few people and then I'll call you?" he said softly.

"Okay," she replied, with barely a whisper, "Good idea." Neither spoke as the seconds ticked by, unsure how they should say goodbye after so long.

It was Nick who made the move; leaning forward, he dipped his body towards her, weaving one arm around her waist and the other over her shoulder, pulling her into a gentle hug. At first, she was taken aback, but gently, she slid her small hands around his waist, taking in the familiar feel of his body. She laid her hands flat against his back and pressed her face into his neck – the smell of his cologne evoking memories long since pushed aside as she pressed herself against him. It felt like coming home again.

Slowly, they disentangled themselves and gave each other an awkward smile, before Nick made a small nod and began to walk away.

Her hands shook as she attempted to place the key in the lock of the car, her body trembling in an aftershock of emotion. Slipping into her seat, she tried to still her body as her ragged breathing filled the silence. Closing her eyes, she willed the feeling to pass, to leave her. But his scent lingered on her coat, the feel of his arms haunted her skin.  _Oh God, s_ he thought,  _oh God…_

* * *

He left, unable to speak again after feeling her in his arms. The way she fit perfectly against his own body was so familiar, so stirring he'd had to leave before he said or did something he would regret. Laying back against the headrest of the seat, he closed his eyes and revisited the moment, storing it deep inside for a time when he would need it. Sighing, he slipped the key into the ignition,  _friends Miller,_ he told himself,  _remember you're just friends._

* * *

**Reunion**

* * *

Yawning, Nick stretched out on the cool cotton sheets as the sun began to fill the room with the glow of a new morning. Arching his back, he twisted his body onto his side until he could feel her soft breaths tickling the skin of his chest. He smiled, reaching his arm over her and drawing the small, soft body closer to him. Softly, he weaved his hand into her thick hair and began to layer kisses across her face. He felt her body stiffen against his as she awoke; sliding her arms around his waist, as her warm mouth found its way to the sensitive skin of his neck, just behind his ears.

Sighing contentedly, he rolled himself onto his back, taking her with him. She hooked her legs around his, pushing her hips down, pressing him against the bed. Her kisses became more fevrish as she worked her way down his neck, her fingers winding their way into the light covering of hair on his chest. Shivers began to run through his body as his heart began to race.

Burning with desire, his hands slipped under the silky material of her pajama shirt and began to explore her smooth skin, his large hands making light work of her slight body. With his hands flat against her back he pressed her chest more firmly against his. Next, he took hold of her chin and turned her mouth upwards, pressing his lips against hers, his mouth taking what it wanted from her. As his temperature rose, he felt the urgency of her response as her fingers dug into his flesh. "Nick," she whispered in his ear, lifting herself away from his kiss.

Finally opening his eyes, he saw her; soft dark curls, deep red lips, pacific blue eyes on creamy white skin... Jess.

* * *

He awoke with a start; sitting quickly upright in bed, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. Momentarily disoriented, he soon recognized his surroundings - the blue walls and white furniture of the room that had been his for the past month. With the back of his hand, he wiped away the perspiration, heart still racing. Breathing deeply, he calmed himself. It was the fifth night in as many day sthat his dreams had been filled with her - ever since the day they had spent together. Every night he fell into a dream world; where she was still his, still loved him, still lay in his arms every night.

Lying back down in the twilight of the early morning, he tried to empty his mind of these thoughts, willing himself to sleep again without chance of these wonderful, yet torturous, dreams haunting him. But as he warched the dim light slip through the thin curtain At the window, he knew that that was a lot to ask.

* * *

The buzzing sound of soft vibrations finally woke him from his slumber. Reaching onto the nightstand, he grabbed the thick, leather strap of his watch and held it in front of his face. 8:00 a.m. Who on earth would be calling him at this time on a Sunday? His hand blindly searched for his phone; finally his fingers grasped the cool metal and he lifted it to his ear, pressing the call button.

"Hello," he said gruffly, stifling a yawn as he spoke.

"Hey!" came a startling bright and cheerful voice on the other end of the line, "Nick, it's Steve."  
Startled, he shifted himself so he was sat upright in the bed and let out a large deep breath. "Oh, hey Steve. What's up? Something to do with the venue?"

"Oh, no - Jess is taking care of all that," he laughed, "Actually, me and a buddy are having a guy's night tonight so I thought you might like to come, being new to LA and all."

"Umm," Nick hesitated - spending the evening with the man whose fiancée he had been having x-rated dreams about every night wasn't his idea of a good time. But in that moment, his mind went a blank, "Geez, um, well, I was kinda gonna have an early night tonight..." he lamely replied.

"Seriously, Nick? Single guy like you, you gotta get out there!"

"Uh, well, I guess I could meet you guys for a beer or two..." he offered.

"Excellent," Steve chirped, "I'll text you the details. It's gonna be awesome."

"Okay pal," Nick said as he returned the phone to his nightstand.  _Great, just great,_  he thought as closed his eyes once more.

* * *

Pulling on a clean shirt he closed the small buttons as he stared at himself in the mirror. You're an idiot. You're an idiot who really should have come up with an excuse not to go. Reaching for a tube of hair gel, he shook his head at his reflection; he knew the real reason that he was going. He wanted to get to know Steve better; it had been almost ten years since college and he had to know who this man was now - the man who Jessica had ultimately chosen.

He stepped out of his room and into the corridor that led to the living room and then the apartment door. His ideas was to slip out quietly - hopefully attracting little attention and inevitable questions. He was still terrible at lying.

As he crept past the sofa, Schmidt's voice stopped him, "You going out?" he asked.

"Yeah, going for a couple of beers..." he said, giving his friend a straight mouthed smile.

"Oh," Schmidt said, a little disheartedly, "I was kinda hopin' we could hang out since Elizabeth is busy..."

Nick shifted on the spot, feeling his resolve to escape quietly dissolve, "Well, I guess, if you want, you could come"

"Seriously?" he replied happily, "Just let me get my wallet," he finished, as he leapt up from his seat on the sofa and ran out of the room.

_Well done Miller,_  he told himself,  _well done_.

* * *

The cab ride to the bar was seemingly never ending for Nick; Schmidt kept pumping him for information. Who was this guy? How did he know him? Had he seen him since he was back in LA? A never ending list of questions that made Nick increasingly anxious as the journey went on.

"So, tell me about this guy," Schmidt asked as they stopped at what felt like the millionth red light of the journey.

"He's a lawyer here, some big firm."

"Married?" asked Schmidt.

"Noo, he is engaged though." Miller! Why are you volunteering this information?

"Oh," Schmidt nodded, turning to face Nick, "Anyone I know?"

In that instant he could feel the blood pounding in his ears, his hands became cold and clammy as a rush of dampness began to spread over his back. "Uh, no..."

Schmidt's eyes narrowed as he recognized the classic symptoms of Nick's inability to lie. He quickly placed his hand on his back.

"Ew, Nicholas, you are wetter than the ocean back there! What are you hiding?"

Nick squirmed under his friends stare; squeezing his eyes tight shut, he whispered, "Jess."

"What?" Schmidt cocked his head to one side, "Jess, as in Jessica?"

Nick nodded, daring to open one eye only to see the shocked expression on his friends face. "Are you out of your mind?" Schmidt cried.

"I may be," Nick answered, "I'm also helping to plan their wedding..."

"You mean, she's the client you got? When you first moved back?" Nick nodded again, scared to speak in case he revealed anything else. "Well Miller, you've done some dumb things in your life, but this tops it all. You are hanging out with the fiancé of the girl who pretty much crushed you emotionally, and you are planning their wedding. Bravo, my friend, bravo," Schmidt began to clap slowly, a thin-lipped smile covering his face.

"Okay, I know it looks bad," Schmidt raised his eyebrows at this, "But really, you gotta believe me, it's fine. Steve's a great guy and Jess and I, well, we were over a long time ago. We're just friends."

"Uh-huh," Schmidt nodded.

"Seriously," Nick insisted.

"Well, either way, looks like I'm in for a front row seat for this..."

"You're not mad?" Nick asked, frowning.

"Oh," Schmidt said, interlacing his fingers behind his head, "I am, but I wouldn't miss this for the world Nick. I'm coming along to bail you out when this all goes bad."

* * *

The bar was full and the group sat in a large booth near the back. They were quickly introduced to Steve's work buddy, Mark, who had recently moved to the city from Ireland and had an indecipherable accent and a liking for liquor. Two pitchers of beer lay on the table along with several rows of whiskey chasers. When they had arrived, Schmidt had tried lead the conversation towards Jess several times until Nick had to pull him to one side.

"He doesn't know," Nick had whispered as the other guys discussed a recent football game.

"What? He doesn't know that you and Jess..." Nick shook his head.

"Oh this makes things much more interesting..." he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. Nick sighed,  _why was his life so damn complicated?_

* * *

"So, Schmidt, how do you know Nick?" asked Steve as he sank an amber colored ale. Nick was sat in between Schmidt and Mark, who was currently working his way through what was at least his seventh beer.

"We were in college together and then we shared a loft here in LA, twelve years all told."

"Phew," Steve whistled as he laid down his glass, "Now that's longer than some marriages." Steve picked up one of the pitchers and began to refill the glasses.

"Indeed it is. But Nick and I always believed in honesty in our friendship, honesty being the foundation of any relationship," Schmidt finished and turned to Nick who could feel his stomach making small, uncomfortable somersaults.

"Sure," Nick agreed, knocking back a shot of Jack Daniels, "Honesty." His eyes began to dart around the room, resting upon the multiple screens on the walls displaying every conceivable sport.

"Like we never kept anything from each other," Schmidt continued, enjoying watching his friend squirm.

"That's right," Nick said as he poured himself another beer, willing Schmidt to stop his torment.

"Like even when - Jess!" Schmidt cried mid-sentence, causing the other two men to look up. There, at the foot of the table stood Jess and just behind her, Cece.

"Um, Schmidt, hi, long time, no see..." she said, uncomfortably as she played with the strap of her blue purse. Beside her Cece stood dressed in head to toe chic, expensive loooking black, her eyes bugging out at the sight of her ex and then again when she looked over and saw Nick.

"You two know each other?" asked Steve, puzzled. There was a pause as the four who once were so intimate looked back and forth to each other. Nick turned instantly to Jess - he could see the hint of fear and panic in her eyes; he didn't know about them living together and certainly not the fact they dated for two years...

"We used to date," said Cece finally. Nick gave her a grateful smile as she explained to Steve that it was she who knew Schmidt and Jess's acquaintance was merely incidental.

"Oh, well that makes sense then, small world! So what are you two doing here anyway?" he asked.

Jess shrugged her shoulders; she was still shocked at the sight of Nick sitting with her fiancé at the bar. Looking ridiculously handsome in a blue button down, his hair mussed up and curly and just a hint to stubble covering his face. She felt the familiar hot flush ride through her body as she remembered the last time she had saw him.

"We were in the area so we thought we would come say hi, but you look busy, sooo..." Jess's voice trailed off as she pursed her lips and her eyes darted around the room, trying to make it appear that she wasn't looking at the man in the blue shirt with so much interest.

"No, no, no," Steve said standing up, "Come on ladies, take a seat, let me get you a drink."

Swallowing deeply, her eyes flitting once more to him, Jess slid into the seat her fiancé had just vacated. Willing her racing heart to still before someone noticed.

* * *

The clock struck eleven thirty, shot glasses littered the table along with two empty bottles of rose wine. The group was all sufficiently merry with alcohol and even Jess had managed to relax, no doubt aided by several glasses of wine.

"I'm gonna put some music on the jukebox, any requests?" Schmidt asked as he searched his pockets for quarters.

"There's a few I want; I'll come with you," Cece said, jumping up quickly.

"Okay," he nodded, as they walked away to the other side of the bar, nervously glancing at Cece.

Next, Steve stood up and placed his hand on the dark, glossy table, "And I am going to get some more drinks, wine for the ladies and - Nick?" he asked.

Nick gazed down at his half-finished glass of beer, "I dunno man, I've already had like six beers..."

"Come on," Steve chided, "One more won't hurt?" Nick looked over at Jess, who was chewing on her lip anxiously, until he caught her eye and he saw a flash of something, deep inside.

"Okay, one more."

Steve patted him on the back, "Great, Mark?"

Mark shuffled to the end of the booth, Nick moving to let him out, his face reddened from the beer and the whiskey and his body shaking just a little, "Mate, I gotta go, I think I over did it on the whiskey..." his face turned a little green as Steve stepped back, just in case.

"Alright man, just take a cab home," he laughed as he turned away to the bar, leaving Nick and Jess alone at opposite sides of the circular booth.

* * *

Cece flicked through the menu of the old fashioned, neon lit jukebox as Schmidt stood close by, both unsure what to say, this being the first time they had seen each other in over two years. "So, I hear congratulations are in order," she finally said turning to look at him, "Jess told me."

He gave her a warm smile in response, "Yes, a few more weeks and I will officially be responsible for another human being, crazy huh?" she laughed at this, "And you, I heard you're some big time stylist now?"

Pressing the buttons to select a Rolling Stones song, she smiled, "Well, not quite, but business is good so maybe one day." She paused, swallowing as she looked at the man she had once loved enough to end a wedding for. But now, now all she felt was a nostalgic affection; the kind you have for something or someone that sparks happy memories. "Hey Schmidt, I just want you to know, I'm happy for you. No hard feelings."

He sighed visibly with relief, "Thank you, I was so worried when I saw you..."

"Everything is in the past," she told him as she fed more quarters into the machine, "We are both in good places now." The machine clicked as the first song began to play. "But... Can I ask, does this concern you," she said, pointing in the direction of the booth.

Schmidt looked up at her seriously, "Yep, very much. We need to keep a close eye on those two so they don't mess everything up. You and I both know what happened last time."

"Sure," she shook her head as she watched the vinyl disc slowly turn, "Don't remind me."

* * *

They sat in silence at the booth as the bar around them buzzed with activity. She sipped the remains of her wine as he rolled his glass in his hands, each occasionally glancing up at the other. Finally, Nick caved. He had to talk to her. Shuffling along the booth, she widened her eyes in surprise, "Oh," she whispered as he moved to sit inches from her.

"I thought it was pretty dumb. Sitting in silence," he said, cocking his head to one side. She nodded.

Now that he had made the move, he actually wasn't sure what to say. But he knew it felt so right and comfortable being close to her again, the same feeling he had in his dreams; as if things had have turned out differently between them all those years ago.

"Jess-"

"Nick-"

"No, you go first," he told her.

She turned her head so she could see his face, his profile strong and oh so familiar, "Thank you for keeping Schmidt quiet about everything with Steve, I feel like if we told him now it would just be awkward. And there is nothing to be awkward about, right?"

"Yeah, I agree," he said, rubbing his hands on his pants, something he did when he was nervous. "Can I tell you something Jess, without making things weird?" She parted her lips and nodded her head slightly. "I need you to know that I've missed you. So much. Since the other day, I've been thinking about you a lot." He sighed with the relief of unburdening his thoughts.

She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts as she considered what to say - her head told her to brush this to one side, make a flippant comment, but her heart was telling her to be honest - just as he had been. And her heart won. "I've been thinking about you too," she admitted, tilting her head to one side, "I mean, why things turned out the way they did, what could have been if..." she lifted her eyes to his and he could see they had turned a little glassy. Then she gave him a tense smile, "But, that's life and Steve, well, Steve's a great guy," she nodded. Slowly her had slid under the table and encased his, squeezing it gently, "But I do still wonder..."

Staring at each other, their breathing turned shallow as the busy bar seemed to evaporate from around them. All that was left in the world in that moment were the two old loves, staring into one another's souls, each feeling the regret of past transgressions and the ache of what may have been.

With hand lying on his, she felt the warmth of his body course through her, her eyelids sinking closed. His closeness feeling so comfortable and good - something she had missed without even realising it.

As he sat beside her, his body tingled at the feel of her small, soft hand upon his - it was a feeling so familiar yet so distant in his memory. This touch reignited the spark he had felt in his dreams; images of the two of them passed through his mind as he searched her face for some kind of permission, though for what he didn't know. When her eyes finally reopened, they're was a moment and something unspoken passed between them, almost as if...

The sound of Steve's voice broke the spell and the two jumped apart just in time to see a tray of drinks slide on the table. "You two talking about the wedding?" he asked with a large smile.

"Um, yeah, um, caterers," she lied.

Nick chimed in, "Yeah, we'll look next week, right Jess?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded in reply. Swallowing deeply, as she felt a heavy guilt descend upon her.

* * *

As the others chatted around him, his hand felt like it was on fire; still burning from her touch. He had seen something in her eyes, something deep down, though he wasn't sure what it was he needed, yearned to find out. Did she still feel something for him? Or was he imagining it all?

* * *

Eventually excusing herself, she rushed to the bathroom and dampened a paper towel, pressing it against her neck, allowing the water to cool her skin. She thanked the bar for its dim lighting, or surely the others would have noticed her flushed face. Her heart was still pounding from the feel of his skin, his hands, his closeness, his words. Leaning back against the tiled wall she breathed deeply. Nick Miller still had this effect on her, something no other man ever had; turning her into a puddle of emotion and desire with a look or a touch. She needed to be careful, very careful. She was in danger of falling again for this man and she worried she might not be able to stop herself.

* * *

**Push**

* * *

The ripples on the surface of the lake seemed to move with a life of their own, ebbing and flowing slowly as a soft breeze skated over the water. The sky was a clear, aqua blue and the few clouds that clung to it were wispy and indistinct, like the vapors from a hot cup of coffee. The water was empty, except for a family of ducks making their way across its center, leaving a v shaped trail in their wake.

Beside the water, a small boy in a blue t-shirt held a clear, plastic bag filled with bread; digging in his hand he pulled out small chunks and tossed them into the water, trying to attract the attention of the ducks. Instead, each time, a sharp eyed pigeon would immediately snatch the sodden, spongy bread within seconds of it touching the water; whisking the prize away in his sharp beak to a high branch of one of the tall, shady trees that lined the green banks of the lake. She smiled as she watched the child's expression as he tried to outsmart the birds; attempting to toss the bread closer to the ducks but to no avail - the pigeons were too quick. Finally, he turned his face in her direction, she could see his lips forming the word, "Mommy" and her heart caught in her throat. The dark hair, the chocolate eyes, the tawny skin; he looked so much like him - he could have been his son.

She turned her head to one side and shuffled against the uncomfortable wooden slats of the bench. Shaking her head she tilted it back - pushing her bangs out of her eyes and pursing her lips as she rehearsed the speech in her mind - the one she had prepared last night as she tossed and turned, trying to grasp a few precious hours of sleep.

It had to stop. This thing that hung between them was coming incredibly close to putting them in a compromising situation. A situation that part of her ached for - she had to be honest. But, in reality, a situation that she knew was wrong, unfair and ultimately would lead to further heartbreak for some or all involved. So here she sat on this warm July afternoon, waiting for him in a park, far away from her own neighborhood, so she could finally tell him she couldn't see him again. It was too hard and too dangerous.

Her heart raced irregularly - fluttering faster and slower - fuelled by the adrenaline that flooded her bloodstream: an after effect of the crippling anxiety that was right then telling her to run, avoid this confrontation. Simply avoid him, make excuses and slip away - did anything really need to be said? Yet the rational side of her was still functioning and kept her sat waiting on that hard bench. Closure was what was needed in order to end this situation properly and she knew he deserved that at least.

The clipped sound of familiar footsteps lifted her from these thoughts and she turned her head in the direction of the sound; placing a pre-prepared smile upon her lips. As he reached where she sat, she lifted her head to look at him; the sun was behind him and cast an almost halo-like glow around his body - the brightness making it difficult to make out his features but she could tell he was smiling.

"Jess, sorry I'm late," he told her, "I was on the other side of town and the traffic..." his voice trailed off as he raised his hands in a apologetic gesture.

"It's fine, seriously - I've been enjoying the view," she replied, pointing at the scene in front of her.

"Okay," he said, sounding relieved as he placed his hands in his pockets, "So what was it you needed me for today?"

Jess shuffled along the bench so she was sat to one side; tapping her hand on the glossy wooden surface she asked, "Can you sit with me for a minute?"

He looked a little confused for a second before he removed his hands from his pockets and settled in the space beside her. Leaning back, he stretched out his legs and shifted against the uncomfortable seat while he looked out over the lake, "This is a great spot," he said.

"Yeah, I come here when I need to think..." she turned her head to him and took a deep breath, "Nick, I can't do this anymore."

His face tilted to meet her gaze as his eyes narrowed, "Do what Jess?"

She dipped her head and began looking at her hands in her lap as she anxiously twisted and squeezed them, "This, us. I mean, being near each other-" she looked up at him again, "It's too hard, Nick."

Looking into her eyes he could see the pain; the blue color had cooled, lost its usual sparkle. He could see the dark shadows of tiredness under her eyes, her makeup not doing its job to hide it, "Jess-" he began.

"Nick, please don't make this any harder," she begged, closing her eyes, "My life - it's so settled right now. I'm engaged, to a - well, to a decent guy. Someone reliable and grounded..."

He felt the sting of her words.  _Reliable. Grounded._  He swallowed as he began to nod.

"You being in my life is making it so hard: I keep thinking about us and what could have been and - and I can't stop thinking about you," she bit her lip as she faced him once again, "My life is good and I can't risk-"

He cut her off by placing a hand on her arm. This surprising touch sent a shiver through her body and shook her from her thoughts. "It's okay Jess, I understand. You have your whole life all set up here and I walk in..." he sighed and ran his tongue over his front teeth, "I'll step away, give Steve some excuse."

Looking down at his hand she began to nod gently, "Thank you Nick, I'm sorry-"

"It's fine, and you don't need to apologize. You know I've only ever wanted what's best for you." At his words her heart swelled a little, a warm bubble of hope growing in her chest. Her mind wandered back to a moment many years ago, in the desert, when an old friend had said to her, 'When you love someone you do what's best for them - even if it sucks for you.'  _He cared about her... Did he also still...?_

"I really appreciate that Nick. You're great, you know..." she told him as she turned to look at her watch. "Oh, it's getting late, I need to start dinner soon-" she began to stand up and he reciprocated, "My car-" she said, gesturing to her right.

"Mine too," he replied and they both began to walk towards the parking lot. A silence between them that said more than any words could.

* * *

They reached Jess's car first and as she was about to get in she noticed her from driver side tire had deflated, the rubber sagging sadly as it hugged the ground.

"Damn," she cried in frustration, rubbing her face with her hand.

"Ah man," he said as he saw what the problem, "You got a spare?" She shook her head, "Triple A?" she shook her head again.

"I'll have to call my mechanic..." she looked at her watch again," But it's past six on a Friday..." she sighed. They stood in silence for a moment as he looked from her to the car and back again; he bit his lip - deep in thought - before he spoke again.

"I could take you home and you could get this sorted tomorrow?" he offered.

She looked up at him, a surprised expression on her face, "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean your car will be safe here, right?"

Mulling over the options she thought about how spending over thirty minutes in a confined space with this man who she had just asked to leave her life again might buckle her resolve to move away from him. Flashing her eyes to his, she replied, "Sure, thanks."

* * *

The freeway was quiet for a Friday and they made light work of the journey, thankfully, as the car was filled with a strange, awkward tension.

A vibrating sound filled the air as they were half way to her apartment - it was Nick's phone which was sitting on the dash. He pressed a button to run the call through the car's bluetooth, "Hello?" he answered.

"Nick? Is that you?" the panicked voice of Elizabeth filled the car, panting heavily.

"Elizabeth, are you okay-"

She cut him off, "I'm in labor Nick. I can't get hold of Schmidt, he's out of the city and no one else is picking up..."

"Okay, look, don't worry - I'm 20 minutes away, 15 if I break a few speed limits," he turned to look at Jess and mouthed, 'Is this okay?'.

In reply she nodded her and whispered, "Of course."

"Thank you Nick," came the thankful voice of Elizabeth before the phone clicked off.

The two occupants of the car looked at each other - it looked like this journey was going to take a little longer than originally planned.

* * *

The labor ward was busy when they arrived; expectant fathers pacing, excited relatives - arms laden with gifts, women with fear etched on their faces who were clearly having their first and the relaxed mothers who had done all this before who chatted quietly, only the occasional wince giving away their current situation. The three sat waiting, trying to make small talk between the waves of pain, trying to take her mind away from the impending event.

Finally, Elizabeth was called - in the car she had managed to get in touch with Schmidt who was at least two hours away. As she was placed into a wheelchair to go to her room she turned to Nick, "Will you stay here, please? Until he gets here? You know my parents are in Michigan and won't be able to get here til tomorrow..."

Nick reached down and squeezed her shoulder, "Of course I will," he smiled.

"Me too," came Jess's voice from behind them, Nick turned and looked at her as she gave him a smile, "I kinda feel involved now," she finished as she moved to closer.

"Oh thank you Jess," Elizabeth replied, taking the other woman's hand, "I really appreciate it."

* * *

They settled into the room, Nick tried to be a surrogate Schmidt, getting her a cup of ice chips, fetching items from her bag. Jess had slipped away minutes earlier, finally she emerged her phone in her hand, "I called Steve and explained - he's going to get take out." She shrugged off her coat as she stepped into the room, taking a seat beside the bed, "So how are you feeling?" she asked.

"Oh, it's not so - Owoowwww!" she cried, grasping at the blankets in frustration, "I'm going to kill that man," she finally finished as the wave of pain subsided.

"For being late?" Nick asked.

She turned and eyed him as beads of sweat ran down her face, "For getting me in this damn situation in the first place," she replied through gritted teeth. Nick and Jess gave each other a look and suppressed their laughter.

"Just think, when all this is over, you're going to be a mom. That's so exciting," Jess told her, a whimsical look passing over her face.

"It is, but it's also freakin' scary- oohhh," her face contorted in pain once again, Jess reciprocated in sympathy for the other woman, raising her hand to her mouth and chewing on her knuckle.

A nurse in mint green scrubs walked into the room and stood at the foot of the bed, "Hello, I'm going to have to ask you guys to step outside while I give Elizabeth an exam, let's get this baby coming."

"Okay," Jess replied giving Elizabeth a small smile, "We'll wait right outside the room." Elizabeth nodded in reply as she watched the two leave.

The door closed and they stood in the empty corridor - it was almost eight now. "Schmidt shouldn't be too much longer," Nick said, shoving one hand in his pocket and tugging his ear with the other.

"Yeah," Jess nodded as she ran her fingers through her hair, "Crazy day huh?"

"It certainly has been," he replied, "Jess, you didn't have to stay you know, I-"

"I wanted to," she insisted, "This is exciting." She lay back against the white wall of the silent corridor. Suddenly, she looked at him, "Do you ever wonder..."

"About if this could have been us?" he replied quickly. She swallowed and nodded. "Of course, especially living with these guys like I have been," a goofy smile appeared on his lips, "Maybe we'd even be on the second one by now. You all big and round, the first one clinging to your ankles-" he stopped and looked into her eyes. They held a look of fear, her face had turned pale. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was just-"

"It's fine," she said shaking her head, "I mean, I've had similar thoughts." She placed her palms flat against her thighs and rolled her head to one side against the wall. "You know, I read a quote once, 'you must never regret what might have been. The past that did not happen is as hidden from us as the future we cannot see'."

Nick considered the words from the moment, the truth in the quotation seeping slowly into him, "I guess what ifs and maybes become slightly redundant after a certain amount of time."

"I guess," she echoed quietly.

At that moment, Schmidt appeared racing down the corridor, almost sliding straight into them. In one hand he had a rather sorry looking bunch of flowers, his tie was askew around his neck and his hair was uncharacteristically messy.

"Did I miss it? Am I late?" he panted.

"No, you're not late," Nick chuckled. At that moment, the door reopened and the nurse exited.

"You can go back in now - not long left!" she smiled.

The three stepped into the room, Schmidt running straight to the bed as the other two held back. Schmidt took hold of Elizabeth's hand and began to lay small kisses over it, "I am so, so, so sorry," he reached over and grasped her face in his hands, "I love you so much, I would never have forgiven myself-" his voice cracked a little.

"Hey, shush," she soothed, stroking his hair with one hand, "You're here and we're having a baby," she smiled, "I love you so much."

Jess began to slowly move out of the room, feeling like an intruder on such an intimate scene. She slipped out into the corridor, picking up her coat as she did so. Outside Nick joined her.

"That was getting pretty intense," he said as he pulled the door to.  
"Yeah. They're so lucky, you know, to be that in love?" she looked up at him, her eyes shining. He nodded, his eyes flitting from her lips to her eyes, an urge to kiss them overcoming him.

Turning away from her he spoke, "It's getting late now, maybe I should take you home."

"Yeah, maybe," she said breathlessly, turning her body so it faced his. She pursed her lips, feeling an old yet familiar feeling take hold of her. His proximity to her was electrifying her body; she swallowed, waiting.

He watched her standing still, her breath heaving with shallow breaths. Her cherry red lips twisting in a way that mesmerized him.

She watched as he slid his tongue over his front teeth, something that used to be such a turn on when they were dating - it was such a cocky, confident manoeuver. The corridor was empty, they were alone in that moment. Truly alone for the first time.

Wordlessly, she slid closer to him, placing a soft hand on his chest, looking up at him expectantly. His heart caught in his chest at her gesture, unsure of what she wanted but desperate to hold her in that moment. The feeling in his chest became an unbearable burning, as though her hand was made of fire. Suddenly, he took hold of her wrist, pulling it to one side and wrapping his other arm around her hips, pulling them so they were pressed against his. Her lips parted as she looked up at him through the curtain of her bangs, they each paused, as if daring the other to take the next step.

Whoever it was wasn't clear but in the next moment their lips crept towards one another, finally pressing together, softly - almost chastely - at first. This initially sweet, tender kiss, evolved quickly - lips parting and tongues meeting in fervent impatience.

Nick's heart began to race, pounding against his chest; this was so unexpected. He reveled in the sweet taste of her lips, so long it had been since he had tasted them. The feel of her hands digging into his back sending waves of pleasure rippling through his tense body.

She felt herself melt and turn to putty in his hands - oh how she had missed this. She sank into him, letting him support her weight as she gave her all to this embrace. Forgetting for a moment that this was wrong, forgetting her fiancé - instead just enjoying the feel of his hot breath, soft mouth and strong hands.

The mood changed within seconds as the kiss turned more urgent. He began to push her backwards, against the wall, pressing her back against it in a dominant, sexy gesture. One hand buried itself into her hair as the other grasped her waist, enjoying the feel of her soft curves. He moved his lips to her neck whilst she dug her hands onto his shoulders as she felt shivers of desire move through her. She wanted him. Now. No matter the consequences. "Nick," she whispered into his ear.

Hearing her say his name in that way, almost made him lose control, he wanted to tear away her clothes and take here there and then. He began to nip and kiss his way down her throat, his hands pulling her shirt from her waistband. He audibly groaned as she moved her hands to his butt, as his own fingers slipped under her clothing and found the soft skin of her back. The trail of kisses worked their way down her neckline, just scraping the soft skin of her breasts that the shirt exposed. Tipping head back in pleasure, she didn't want him to ever stop. Shaking with desire, she was just about to call out his name when-

"Ahem," came a voice. Started, they pulled apart - initially unsure of where they were. Looking to the door, they saw it was Schmidt. The both stared at each other, dumbstruck. The silence lasted until Jess reached down and picked up her forgotten coat, "I, I should go," she panted, not waiting to finish her words before she moved away.

As he watched her small figure disappear down the corridor, Nick calmed his heavy breathing.

"What the hell was that?" Schmidt hissed, "I leave you alone for a second, and-" he paused when he saw the pained expression on Nick's face.

"I don't know man, I really don't," he said, slowly shaking his head. Unsure of what had just occurred but 100 percent sure he did not regret it. Not one tiny bit.

* * *

**Pull**

* * *

"Mmm," she murmured as she felt the hot, soft kisses glide across her skin, making her squirm in pleasure.  _Now this was the way to be woken up_. She sighed softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling those amazing lips up to meet her own. Molding her mouth to his, she pressed herself against him, enjoying how the sensation of his body pushing down on her made her feel so satisfied.

The layer of stubble he wore gently brushed against her cheeks; it should have been painful but in actuality it was incredibly stimulating; electrifying her skin, making her feel alive - that fine line between pleasure and pain. She nuzzled into his soft, wavy hair, laying kisses down the side of his face until she met the bobbing Adam's apple at the top of his throat.

Slowly, he hooked his leg into hers and began to roll her over, so she was lying on top of him, giving him full access to her body. The sensation of his slightly rough hands exploring her skin made her squirm in anticipation. He began to nip at her: kissing, licking, taking little soft bites; he knew all the spots that made her go weak at the knees. They were so good together, so good. It had never been like this with someone else: so right - toe tinglingly amazing.

She slid her fingers into his sleep pants; he groaned in appreciation as he shifted his hands to the sides of her head, returning his attention to her face. Covering it in soft kisses: a cheek, an eyelid, her mouth. "Oh, Nick..." she moaned softly.

Suddenly she felt a movement and awoke with a start. The room was pitch black and beside her she felt Steve's body shift as he sleepily said, "You alright honey?"

For a moment she hesitated,  _Had he heard_? She gave her head a little shake, no he couldn't have... "No, just a dream," she assured him, "Go back to sleep." Leaning across she gave him a small, chaste kiss on the forehead and listened as he rolled back over, tugging the sheets around him as he did.

She pressed herself back against the pillow; laying the back of her hand against her forehead she felt it was burning hot - was she getting sick? As she let out a deep breath, she admitted to herself the reason for her fever - Nick.

Since the day at the hospital last week they hadn't spoken. But neither had he called Steve and backed away, like he said he would. She thought that she should be annoyed, but at the same time she knew that what had happened that night in the corridor had been at least fifty percent her doing. And she didn't regret it. And she wished it had not stopped where it did.

She felt her cheeks burn at the memory; the guilt of what she had done causing a wave of sickness to pass over her. Steve had commented on how quiet she had been recently - she passed it off as tiredness and in actuality she had found it so hard to sleep since then; either because of dreams about  _him_  or because of the thoughts of that evening and what it meant that kept running through her mind.

But the guilt. It burned deep in the pit of her stomach, a reminder that what she had done, what she wanted to do and all these thoughts she kept having were wrong. She was with  _Steve_. Things with Nick had not worked out _for a_   _reason_. Even if he did make her feel so alive, even if he did have this magnetic hold over her - she would end this. Really she would. Keep her distance. Avoid him. Stop thinking about him.  _Yes, that was the answer_ , she told herself as she tried to slip back into the dream world. But as she finally fell back to sleep, there he was to greet her. She had failed already.

* * *

Cece stood next to Jess in the kitchen, arranging colorful bowls of nuts and chips whilst her friend made a large jug of sangria. The party to celebrate Steve's birthday was still an hour away from starting and they were alone whilst he took a shower. "You're awfully quiet," she said as she opened a bag of salted pretzels.

"Just concentrating," Jess said as she poured red wine into the clear, glass jug in front of her.

Cece began to shake out the small, crunchy snacks as she turned to look at her friend incredulously - "On making a cocktail?"

"Yeah," Jess said defensively, averting her friends burning gaze. Cece took the half poured bottle of wine from her and tugged on her arm so she swung around to face her.

"Okay, what happened with Nick?"

"Wha-?" Jess replied, as her cheeks flushed, "What do you mean. Nothing has happened with him." She tried to grab the bottle back from Cece, but she hid it behind her back, fighting off Jess's clawing hands.

"Jess, the only time I had ever seen you behave like this was over Nick Miller, I'm not blind. I can see you still have a thing for him." Jess felt her resolve crumble around her as she stood - was she really that transparent? She ran her hand along the curved edge of the countertop as she toyed with what exactly to tell her friend.

"Okay," she finally sighed, "We may have kissed..."

"You kissed?" Cece screamed, as Jess frantically tried to clasp her hand over her mouth. "Okay," she said in a quieter voice, as Jess put down her arms, "When? How? And who kissed who?"

Jess instantly began to regret her revelation as her friends scrutiny felt like the shining hot light of an interrogation. "Last week, when Elizabeth was having her baby and it was kind of a joint thing..."

"I knew it," Cece cried triumphantly, "I told Schmidt we had to watch you two."

"You've been taking about me with Schmidt?!" Jess asked indignantly, but the other woman ignored her.

"Just give me a moment to process this..." Cece said as she placed the bottle back down, "So what does this mean - what about Steve? Have you told him?"

Jess pulled Cece closer, "Shhh, no! Of course not! It was a mistake, a huge one. He still doesn't know anything about our relationship and I intend for it to stay that way. I was just a bit emotional and, you know," she shrugged as she turned back to her jug of sangria, sticking out her tongue a little as she concentrated on adding the correct amount of wine.

"Jess, you know I love you, but this - well, it's wrong. It's not you. You are not that kind of girl babe."

Jess sighed as she stirred the jugs contents, "I know, I know and I feel like crap. But it was like - like it wasn't me, I felt like I was watching myself - I couldn't help it," Cece put a hand on her shoulder and began to rub it gently, "Steve knows something is wrong, he keeps asking if I'm okay..." she put down he stirring spoon, "But I promise Cees, that's it. No more."

Cece raised her eyebrows at her friend, "Are you really sure Jess? I mean, you have a good thing going right now. I don't want you to risk it all on some, well, fling," she stopped and waited for Jess to respond.

"I'm sure Cece, I'm not some pathetic girl who can't resist a guy. You know me, I'm sensible, I make the right choices, I consider the feelings of others,"  _except_   _at the hospital that night_ , the voice in her head countered.

"Okay, I believe you. I guess everyone makes a mistake from time to time, God I have," she grimaced, "But please, don't keep these things from me, I'm here for ya. And stay away from Nick Miller!" As Jess nodded, she pulled her into a crushing hug. "Now," she said taking hold of her friends shoulders, "Where's the vodka?"

Jess chuckled and replied, "In the freezer." She watched Cece trot over to the fridge as she felt a little swell of confidence from the conversation.  _Yes_ , she thought, _I can do this_.

* * *

An hour and a half later Cece had drank herself into a merry state after a few vodkas and was holed up in one corner of the living room with a work friend of Steve's, looking cozy. Jess let out a sigh of relief that her friend was now otherwise occupied, although she had insisted she had her back, she still felt the glare of Cece's earlier scrutiny hanging over her.

Heading back into the kitchen to pull out another case of beer, Jess let herself relax a little and enjoy the moment. Steve was really happy; she had given him his present just before the party - a pair of white gold cufflinks inscribed with his initials - and he had said he loved them. She always found him so difficult to buy for; in one way he was such an open book, but when it came to things like buying a gift she often struggled to decide what he would like or want. Still, she was pleased she had chosen well and that so many of Steve's friends had come to the party - in fact the apartment was so warm with the heat of all the bodies within it that she was happy to retreat to the relative chill of the kitchen.

When she came back into the living area someone had cranked up the music and she winced a little - time for another drink she thought as she placed the beers in the ice chest they had set up and poured herself a large glass of rose wine.

As she turned around, in the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of something; a black shirt, dark hair...  _Was it...Nick? What was he doing here?_ She felt her heart begin to thud heavily and a cool chill spread through her veins; she had not been expecting this. To see him again so soon... Why had Steve invited him?

Keeping one eye on Nick, she slid over to where Steve was standing with Mark, the Irish guy who Jess could never understand when he talked. "Hey baby," she said as she slid her arms around his neck, acutely aware that Nick had now seen her and was watching her every move, "So, lots of people here, huh?" she whispered in his ear - he gave her an odd look, this was not regular Jess-Steve behavior, "I didn't realize you had invited Nick too," she said, trying to sound offhand and flippant, though her voice strained a little.

Steve twisted round and removed her arms from him, "Yeah, I invited pretty much everyone. Honey, have you had too much to drink? You know you can't handle more than a few glasses of wine..."

Jess felt a hot flush at his words, "Oh, no, I'm just in a good mood... Actually, I think I will get a glass of water." Moving away, she ducked into the kitchen and filled a glass with a handful of ice and water. She gulped it greedily, before pressing the glass against her brow.  _You can do this Jess, lots of people here, just stay away from him..._

* * *

And that she did. Another hour passed and she was talking to Cece - who had moved away from the guy she was talking to when he started talking about his two ex-wives and five kids. She had her back to the party whilst Cece scoured the room for other options when she felt fingers brushing against the bare stretch of skin on her lower back. Turning around she saw him, walking away from her,  _What is he doing?_  she thought, feeling a little bubble of annoyance grow inside. She edged her way to the wall so she could now see the room; he was directly across from her, engaged in conversation with a tall man with reddish hair and a pale complexion whom she didn't recognize. Whilst he seemed to be listening, she knew otherwise. His eyes were looking right through the other man and he was doing that sexy thing with his mouth, biting his lip, chewing his tongue... She turned away in frustration. He was doing this on purpose to tease her. How dare he?

* * *

As the evening wore on, she returned to the kitchen to deal with the pile of green glass bottles that had grown in the trash can. Jess was still managing to avoid Nick - no words had passed between them - but she could feel his eyes upon her from time to time and with them a magnetic pull to be near him that she constantly had to fight and so far had beaten. Cockily, she patted herself on the back for her good behavior,  _Good job Jess_ , she told herself.

As she picked up the now full bag that lined the kitchen trash can, she felt a hand brush against hers, "Hey, let me help you with that," came that familiar, gravelly voice from behind her. She froze, his hands half covering her own; slowly she turned her head to the side, feeling the heat of his breath on her neck as a shudder racked her body.

"I'm fine," she told him, her voice wobbling a little as she spoke, so was the impact of his proximity to her.

"Let me help you," he said again, gazing at her in such a way that she dared not argue with him.

She disentangled herself from him and stepped to one side as he tied the top of the bag in a large knot. As she reached for another to replace it she watched him lift the trash and move it across to the utility room. The thin, cotton button down her wore afforded her a view of the muscles of his back as they constricted and strained against the heavy weight of the glass bottles; he looked good, very good.

Swallowing slowly, she let out a quiet, "Thanks," to which he nodded and once again gave her that look - the one that made her shudder - it was raw, like they were the only two people in the world and any minute he would throw her down and devour her.

But, as quickly as he had appeared, he exited the kitchen, leaving her flustered and confused - was he trying to torture her? He knew how she felt, he knew-  _Stop thinking about it, that's what he wants_ , she told herself as she rejoined the party,  _That's what he wants and he is not going to get it._

* * *

Creeping along the corridor, she slipped into the bedroom to freshen up. The apartment was still baking hot and she felt her bangs becoming limp and stringy as her makeup began to slide off her face. Reapplying a slick of red lipstick, she began to feel the pleasurable buzz of the wine she had consumed. She always found it funny how alcohol didn't really seem to hit you until you step out of the environment you drank it in; or was it that it took a change of scenery to realize how tipsy you actually were? Giggly, she brushed out her hair and straightened the tight pencil skirt of her dress,  _You'll do_ , she told herself as she headed for the door to check on the guests.

Turning off the lamp, she twisted the handle and pushed the door open until she felt a warm hand grasp her wrist, guiding her back into the half light of the room. Immediately she knew who it was but was too surprised to speak.

"I need to talk to you," he whispered in her ear as he leaned into her. In response, she stepped backwards, moving towards her walk in closet. As they stepped inside, she flicked a switch and a dim light illuminated the small space as she heard the door click behind her.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, through gritted teeth.

"I could say the same," he replied, "Why are we in your closet?"

"Because," she said, folding her arms, "I cannot risk someone seeing us. Steve already thinks something is wrong and Cece is convinced I'm going to ruin my life because of this, this-"

"This what?" he asked, "What is this we are doing?" he finished, leaning confidently back against the door.

Exasperated, she let out a deep breath that caused her bangs to fly upwards, "You tell me Nick - you are the one who has been following me around all night."

"Nu-huh," she said, shaking his head, "You have been watching my every move- every time I look up, there you are staring."

"No way," she cried.

"Yes way," he retorted, stepping closer to her and taking hold of her arms, pressing in his thumbs a little as she pursed her lips and let her head lull back slightly.

"Jessica, I came here tonight to see you. But if I had have thought, for one second, that you still thought this was a mistake, that you actually meant what you said the other day, then I would have walked away, taken it like a man. But I came here and you-you look at me with those eyes," he moved his hand and stroked her cheek, causing her heart to jump into her throat, "And I cannot stay away from you."

_Was he right? Had she been doing that? Had her eyes betrayed her?_  Her mind began to fret and whirl as she began to doubt herself; what did she want? "Nick, I-" she paused, eyes flitting to the ground as she composed herself, "Okay, I have thought about you - wanted you," she told him, bringing her gaze to meet his, drowning herself in his chocolate eyes for a second, before moving to look at the door behind him, "But you don't always get what you want. And what you want isn't always what you need. And Steve-" her voice cracked, unable to continue.

He cupped her chin, guiding it so she faced him again, "I want you Jess. More than that, I need you. I've tried not to but it's no use. The dumbest mistake I ever made in my life was giving up on us. Not fighting for you," his voice broke a little at the end, his hand sliding back down to her arm, "But tell me here, right now, that you don't feel the same and I promise to walk away right this second and never bother you again."

She stared at him, unsure what to say, her heart and mind screaming at her simultaneously, pulling her in different directions.

"Tell me Jess," he asked again, the pleading in his voice coming through as soft whine, like he was in some kind of pain.

Then, it was like everything became clear. There - in the closet, surrounded by coat hangers, shoe boxes and shelves full of purses - she knew. She loved him, perhaps she'd never stopped. It had been buried deep inside her like an old sweater you packed away one spring and forgot you owned, but then one day you find it again and oh boy...

"I -I," her breath had turned into a hiccupping, soft sob; tears moistening her eyes as it all became clear, "Don't go," she finally managed to say in a quiet, barely audible whisper. She could hear his breathing slow to a raspy crackle.

"You know how I feel. What do you want Jessica?" he asked, inching closer to her; the heat radiating from him turning up the temperature in the small space: she had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

"You," she replied simply, slipping her hand into his, feeling his fingers slowly wrap around her own; simultaneously waves of cool relief and ice cold terror coursed through her. There was no turning back.

Without a word, he pushed her back against the pale wall of the dark closet, raising the hand he held above her head and holding it against the cool surface behind her. His lips moved straight to her exposed neck, teasingly drawing his tongue along its smooth skin, enjoying the tang of perfume and salt it held. She dug her free hand into his hair as she pressed her body against him, not wanting even the air to separate them.

His kisses moved to her chest, letting go of her wrist, he impatiently pulled down the straps of her dress so it hung limply around her waist. Letting his hands roam over her breasts, he groaned in pleasure, "Jessica." A shiver of pleasure went down her spine,  _Oh the way he said her name._

Then it became a blur: she wanted to taste him, feel him. The years of separation had left a hunger in her that she had never felt before - a burning ache that she could only be satisfied by him. Their mouths found each other in the dim light: clashing and caressing in a way only two who knew each other so well could.

Without thinking, she began to fumble with his leather belt as he tugged at the rest of her dress - not bothering to touch the zipper - hearing a satisfying rip as it tore in his hands. He pushed down his jeans and underwear and her hand quickly moved to his crotch, wrapping her fingers tightly around his hardness as his breathing pitched and rattled. "Take them off," he ordered her and she obediently pushed down her panties with her other hand before unhooking her bra and tossing it to one side. In one move he removed his t-shirt and hoisted one of her legs up around his waist, laying the rest of her against the wall. He pressed his bare chest against hers - the feeling of skin upon skin was what Jess could only describe as pure bliss. With his hand still hooked on her knee he buried himself inside her without ceremony, without asking; he knew what she wanted, he could feel it, taste it.

She let out a small cry as she felt his warmth fill her so deliciously. God, how she had missed this. It had never been like this with anyone else, the way he could make her body hum and bend to his will was intoxicating and addictive. Wasting no time, they both rocked against each other, occasionally breathless panting the others name, stealing brief, salty kisses - beads of sweat clinging to their bodies in the small, cramped closet. In that moment, she didn't care if someone heard them, if someone found them - all that mattered was their two bodies intertwined, finally, once more.

Finally she could take it no longer - he could sense her change in mood. She swung her arms around his neck as he grabbed her other leg, taking her small, soft buttocks in his hand as he pushed into her deeper and deeper until he felt her stiffen and he finally let himself go, drowning in his own release, sinking to the floor with her still wrapped around his waist.

Nestling into his neck, she reveled in a feeling of wholeness and serenity that had descended on her. The pounding ache that had earlier filled her body was replaced by a soft whisper of pleasure and euphoria. He pulled her to him and kissed her gently, before placing his forehead on hers. "Well that was unexpected," he said, and she had to laugh.

"Yeah," she agreed, breathing heavily "Um, I need to freshen up... And you should get back." He nodded in agreement. "We need to work this out, but not tonight, I-."

"It's okay Jess, I'm not going anywhere, I understand it's - complicated," he told her then he peeled his body from hers and she watched him silently as he slipped on his clothes and, giving her one last kiss, slipped out of her closet.

* * *

Nick was walking down the corridor back to the living room when he saw Cece approaching, "Have you seen-" she paused and gave him a strange look before reaching out and rubbing her finger against his lips. Holding it up he saw it was covered in dark red lipstick, "Nice shade Nick, goes with your eyes." Her eyes narrowed as he rubbed his hand against his mouth, stalling for time. "Where is she?" she demanded.

"Uh," he fumbled before his eyes betrayed him with a glance back towards the doorway; he was still a terrible liar.

Cece forced her way past him and he could only watch in agony as she pushed her way into the room. After much indecision he decided to head back and make his excuses and leave - this was one discussion he thought his presence would not help.

* * *

"Jess!" Cece screamed as she banged against the thin door of the ensuite. Finally, it slid open and Jess stepped out in a blue floral dress. "What the hell has happened? Why did I just see Nick with your lipstick all over his face? Why have you changed your dress- Nooo," she bellowed as she realised what had happened, "You didn't." The guilty expression on Jess's face was all the confirmation she needed. "I can't believe you, I can't-"

Jess could hear the anger in her voice and it made her shake a little. Cece didn't often get mad, but when she did it was scary. "Cece, you don't understand-" Jess pleaded.

"I do Jess, I do. This is a huge mistake. Remember what happened last time? Well, leopards don't change their spots. I'm disappointed Jess." And with that she stormed out of the room, leaving Jess to sink to the bed in deep concentration.  _Was she right? Was this doomed?_

And, once again, her mind became a tortuous mix of doubts, confusion and emotion; pulling her this way and that, wiping away that brief feeling of happiness and replacing it with one of tortuous guilt and uncertainty.

* * *

**Mistakes**

* * *

_Three years ago..._

It felt like a normal day at first. The sky turned a peachy-tangerine shade as the sun appeared on the horizon. The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall as she heard Winston return from his night shift. The radio clicked onto her favorite station, right on time.

But it wasn't a normal day. His space in the bed was empty. All night she had clung to her side; curled up in a ball. Perhaps it was out of habit, or perhaps the real reason was that if she stretched herself over to where he usually lay it would make the fact that he wasn't there all the more real.

She couldn't actually remember the last time they didn't share a bed, so used was she to the heavy feel of his arm around her, the feel of his stubble scratching against her back and the sweet things he would whisper in her ear. They'd never quite made that step of moving into one room but for all intents and purposes they lived together. Well, did.

The creak in her back clicked as she stretched out a yawn feeling a small shiver run over her. She had forgotten how cold she got when alone in her bed. Standing up she pulled on her soft pink robe and knotted the belt firmly around her waist.

This was it. Today she would do it. Her breath began to shake a little as she thought about what it was. It was the right thing to do, said one part of her. He will never be what you need - it would be wrong of you to try and change him. The longer you let this drag on the worse it will be, for both of you. No! Screamed another small voice inside. You love him. That's all that matters. He adores you, you know he would do anything for you, you idiot!

She shook that voice away as she stared at herself in the mirror. You need to do this, she told herself silently, Like ripping off a band aid. It will sting at first but then it will ease.

Turning around she laid her body against the door, feeling the small bones of her spine press uncomfortably against the hard wood and pushing her hands through her hair as she dealt with the internal struggle in her mind. The lack of sleep was beginning to punish her now: the ache in her head growing louder, her limbs feeling leaden, her eyelids sinking a little with every breath. How could she sleep though? The weight of responsibility hung heavily over her as she knew she needed to be the one to do this. For both their sakes.

She loved him. She did. More than anything. But that's not enough, the stronger voice inside said, You need more. And she sighed as she knew it was true. As much as he had made his way into her heart, it was clear that their relationship was not going to move forward. It was stuck; stagnant.

Reaching for the door, she pulled it open and padded towards the bathroom. Today. I'll do it today.

* * *

_Present day_

Her skin burned as she scraped the sponge harder and harder against her skin. Its usual pale ivory color was slowly being replaced by an angry pink flush; her skin crying out for mercy against the relentless cleansing. She had been in the shower for almost twenty minutes already but she still felt tainted. The stain of guilt burned deep into her. She could

still smell him on her body, still feel the places where his fingers had touched her and his mouth had laid claim to her own.

Rubbing more soap into the sponge, she tipped her head under the powerful stream of water - willing it to wash away her malfeasance and strip her of her sins. Her brow furrowed and she laid her forehead against the cold tiles of the wall as the realization hit.

She had cheated. She had done one of the things she abhorred most in a relationship. And she didn't know how to deal with it.

She wrenched the silver dial of the shower closed and stepped onto the floor, wrapping a soft towel around her reddened skin. As she looked in the mirror she caught her breath - could you tell? Was it obvious? To her it was: to her it couldn't have been clearer if she was Hester Prynne and a large scarlet letter had been pinned to her chest. Inside her stomach was churning, a dull ache spreading and a wave of nausea overwhelmed her.

She slid down to the floor and placed her hands beside the toilet; her stomach retchingat her own behavior. Violent contortions sent ripples through her stomach, though it stubbornly refused to give her the release that would end the feeling. Finally exhaustedand sweating she admitted defeat and flipped down the toilet lid. She couldn't even punish

herself by being sick.

By some miracle Steve had passed out on the sofa last night; by the time she had returned from her impromptu clothing change (which she explained by way of a spilled glass of wine) he was so happily inebriated she was relieved she didn't have to talk to him too much, or do anything else for that matter. Instead when he had finally dozed off she

had wrapped him in a blanket and slipped off to bed, alone.

"Hey babe," Steve yawned as he stepped into the bathroom. He still wore the clothes from last night and his hair was rumpled and messed up, she rarely saw him looking so untidy.

Stepping over to where she stood he slipped his hands onto her shoulders and began to kiss her neck. She froze. His kisses felt like little daggers on her skin, each one more painful that the last. Whilst he worked his way across her shoulder, her mind began to compare his kisses with Nick's. These kisses were soft and kind, but they didn't ignite that

fire, that desire that he did. She was so deep in thought she was startled when Steve spoke again, jumping a little against his cold hands, "How are you this morning?"

"Good," she choked a little as the words came out, "Tired," she added as she pulled away from him and shrugged on her robe.

"Me too," he laughed, "When did I pass out?"

He began to unbutton his shirt and she suddenly felt claustrophobic, as if the walls of the bathroom were closing in and there was no longer enough space for the two of them.

"Oh pretty late," she replied as she crept closer to the door, "Hey, I promised Cece I would spend the day with her? Is that okay?"

Moving forward he placed a small kiss on her forehead, "Sure. But don't forget tonight we're going to sort through all those boxes in the spare room."

"How could I forget?" she answered quietly as she closed the door behind her. The spot where he had kissed her, a burning reminder of her guilt.

* * *

She had spent most of the day wandering around the park - the same park where she had met Nick only a couple of weeks earlier - before deciding how she would resolve this.

For two hours Jess had sat, pen in hand and tried to put into words what she had to say. The coffee shop she had found was tiny; the small tables were crammed together and the smell of freshly brewed java permeated the air. In front of her was the small notebook she had brought with her and beside it the growing mountain of torn and crumpled pages; each

one a failed attempt.

She poured out the last drops of lukewarm tea from the small, blue pot that sat on thetable and chewed on the pen as she tried to concentrate. She knew what she had to tell him; she cared about him, but it had been a mistake. She had been swept away in the moment and she should never had let it go that far. She was sorry.

With a renewed sense of vigour, she pulled the pen from between her lips and began to scribble furiously in her looping, feminine script. Not pausing for more than a few seconds, before she tore the page from the spiral binding with a flourish and fished in her purse for the envelope she had picked up before she had left. When the paper was folded and sealed inside she finally breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Running her fingers across the smooth white paper she finished by writing, 'Nick' in large letters. Then as she pushed the letter back into her purse, she gathered her things and hurried out the door.

* * *

Hesitating for a second, she quickly tapped at the door stepping back as it opened to reveal a flushed looking Elizabeth.

"Hey, Jess, what a surprise," she began as she beckoned her into the cozy apartment.

"Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and..." she shrugged her shoulders as she looked around and listened out for the sound of other occupants.

"He's not here. Nick - he's at work," Elizabeth told her as she closed the door and led her into the living room.

"Oh, I wasn't really, you know..." she let the sentence hang as she sat herself down on the sofa. This wasn't going to plan. The idea was to leave the letter and go.

In the corner she saw a white painted crib with a small mobile turning above it. She gave Elizabeth a smile and said, "Is that...?"

Elizabeth nodded and walked over the bassinet, "Meet baby Thaddeus," she smiled as she picked up the small, swaddled bundle inside and walked over to where Jess sat.

As Jess peeked at the baby boy she saw his tiny pink face with his small mouth stretched into a wide yawn, "Oh, he's so beautiful," she cooed as she watched him lie in his mothers arms, "He seems like such a good baby too."

"He is for the most part," Elizabeth said as she rocked Thaddeus gently, "But he's obsessed with feeding. If I'm not right on time he cries the house down. He loves the breast - in that way he takes after his father."

Jess laughed as she watched Elizabeth return the baby to his crib, "Coffee?" she asked.

"Okay," Jess replied, as she slipped her finger into her purse and wrapped her hand around the envelope.

* * *

"So, how are you? We didn't really get the chance to talk before," Elizabeth asked as they each worked their way through a chocolate cookie.

"Oh, you know, work work work and all that jazz," she paused and sipped the bitter liquid - she hated coffee, "Oh, and I'm engaged," she added, as if an afterthought.

"I heard," the other woman replied before the conversation stalled and they both sat in awkward laid her coffee down on the table before padding over and checking on the baby who was now sleeping soundly, "Jess, this may be none of my business, but can I ask you something?"

Jess swallowed nervously, before nodding her agreement.

"What is going on with you and Nick? I though I saw something between you the night at the hospital, but then I thought it was my hormones going crazy. But a few days ago Schmidt told me what he saw and then last night, well, Nick came home from that party with red lipstick on his neck and..." she stopped and looked over at Jess who was currently

staring at her coffee mug which had suddenly became intensely interesting.

Jess took a few deeps breaths, deciding what to say, how to explain what had happened. "Nothing is going on. It was, kind of - but it was a mistake. A huge one. It's actually why I'm here," she pulled the long, thin white envelope from her bag and laid it on the table. "For some reason when we are together I lose my senses, so I wrote him a letter. Apologizing. Saying goodbye."

Elizabeth turned and looked at Jess, she saw her eyes were puffy and heavy - the eyes of someone who hadn't slept. Her shirt was creased and strands of hair escaped her ponytail and hung messily around her face. This wasn't the composed, polished Jess she was used to. "If I am crossing the line, please tell me but - are you sure that's the right thing to do?"

"What do you mean?" Jess asked.

"Well," she said as she moved to sit by Jess again, "I never really understood why you guys broke up in the first place. I mean, he was trying so hard to better himself so you guys could have a real future together."

Jess shook her head, confused by the other woman's words. Her brow crinkled as she replied, "I don't understand."

The mantle clock chimed six pm, and Jess checked her watch - she was late. But she needed to know what Elizabeth meant.

"Oh, Schmidt will kill me for telling you but, what the hell. Nick was going to propose, Jess. He was working all the hours he could to buy you a ring. He was waiting until he became manager at Clyde's - he had the interview, everything, set up. But when you guys broke up he just-" she finished by shrugging her shoulders and picking up her coffee mug.

The only reply Jessica could muster was, "Oh." She felt nauseous as the words sank in. She had ended things because their relationship was not going anywhere. She thought that was the right thing - he wasn't going to change, he wasn't capable of change. But here Elizabeth was telling her an entirely different story. She let out a slow breath as she asked

herself, Why didn't he tell me?

"I guess you're wondering why he didn't say something when you guys broke up. I asked Schmidt the same thing. He said he thought you didn't want him and he wanted what was best for you."

"Typical Nick," Jess said quietly before lying back into the soft couch. "I ended it because I thought things were going nowhere, truth be told. I thought we were stagnant. I was trying to save us both more misery."

The sound of the clock on the mantle seemed to increase in volume, tick-tock-tick-tock, each second seemingly longer than the first. "He still loves you Jess."

"I know," she replied sadly.

"And you?" Elizabeth asked.

"Me? I... Good question...," she crumpled the thin cotton of her skirt in her hand as she fell into deep thought, "Me? I'm committed to someone else now."

"Aren't you curious-" Elizabeth began before Jess stood up and picked up her purse.

"No, because I'm too old for fantasy and wishful thinking. We had our chance and it's gone. Long gone. I need certainty, security - Steve gives me that. I want to start a family soon," her eyes wandered over to the crib in the corner. "Can you please give Nick the letter? I'm running late," she asked Elizabeth stood and walked over to open the door for her.

"Of course," she replied as she opened the door, "And I'm sorry if I-"

"It's okay," Jess said as she stepped out of the door, "I'm fine" she lied as she rushed back to her car, salty tears beginning to sting her tired eyes.

* * *

The apartment was silent as she locked the door behind her and placed her keys and purse down. "Hello? Steve?" she asked as she wandered into the living room. She looked at her watch, it was seven thirty. The traffic had been terrible.

Wandering down the hall to the bedroom, she prepared a little story about her day with Cece - window shopping, an art gallery and an early dinner - to explain her tardiness.

She could see the light streaming from under their bedroom door as she reached the end of the corridor and she pushed it open, only to see Steve sat on the floor surrounded by the remaining boxes they had never got around to unpacking when they moved in together six months earlier.

"Oh, hey Steve, how are y-" she stopped as Steve turned around with a stony faced expression.

"Hi Jess," he said in a clipped tone. In his hands was a small, red photo album. It looked familiar to Jess. She moved into the room and sat on the end of the bed. Steve seemed strangely quiet. She waited for him to continue. "Honey, is there something you need to tell me?" he asked stiffly. Immediately she began to panic, a cold sweat instantly forming and

her heart racing - what did he know? How could he know-

"Wh-What do you mean Steve?" she asked. He didn't speak, instead he held up the album in his hands and turned it to face her. Inside, was a picture. She was sitting on a man's knee, her face beaming as he placed a kiss on her cheek. Their arms wrapped around each other. They both looked so happy.

"I think we need to talk Jess," Steve added as she sat in stunned silence.

It was her and Nick. Together. As a couple.

* * *

**Memories**

* * *

He took in a deep, slow breath as he rubbed his face into the soft cotton of the pillow. Slowly, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he stretched out on the bed until his feet hung lazily over each side. The warm feeling in his stomach still lingered, alongside the memory of holding her, being with her... Flipping over, he sat up and rubbed the remainders of tiredness from his eyes. It felt like a dream. Did it really happen?

He checked his watch - it was late, eleven already. Wow, he hadn't slept that well in a long time. Stepping into the hall he called out for Schmidt or Elizabeth but the apartment was quiet and still. Silently he was pleased; he could remain a little longer in his private fantasy world and he walked happily to the bathroom, his mind filled with her.

* * *

It smelled the same. That tang of stale beer tinged with the scent of bleach that was needed to scrub the floors on a daily basis. It was like stepping back in time; little had changed. The bar still had the same dark ambiance - the one that made you think that you could hide away in a booth and no one would see what you were up to (which for the record was not true). The beat of an 80's power ballad hung in the air as he headed up to the bar. The hulking man who stood behind it paused as he squinted, looking carefully at Nick until a large grin of recognition spread over his face.

"Nick, my man!" he cried as he lifted the bar hatch and wrapped his arms tightly around him, "I though you had died."

"Nice to see you too Bob," Nick replied, straining to breathe as he was crushed under the other man's strong arms. Finally he was released and he heaved his chest, reminding his body it still had the freedom to breathe. "So how's things?" he asked as Bob slid back behind the three feet of mahogany and Nick rested his arms on the bar.

Bob picked two low ball glasses from the shelf behind and poured two fingers of Jack Daniels into both; Nick smiled - the man still knew him well. He slid one in front of Nick and they both tipped glasses against each other and took a long, slow draw before he spoke again, "Pretty good, I'm the boss now," he said, topping up both their glasses, "And you - how's the Windy City treating you?"

"Ah," Nick groaned, scratching his lightly stubbled face, "Last I heard it was good," he placed his palms flat on the polished bar, spreading his fingers wide, "I moved back here a couple of months ago."

"And it took you this long to come back to your old place of work," Bob held his hand to his chest, "Man, I'm hurt." He tried to place a wounded expression on his face but it quickly turned into a laugh that enveloped both men.

"Yeah, sorry - busy you know. Starting up a new business," Nick told him, "I'm actually meeting a friend here, wanted to hit some of my old haunts."

Bob knocked back the rest of his drink before wiping away the ring of condensation it left with the towel he had slung over his shoulder, "Well I'm glad you're here man. It's been too long."

Nick smiled once more, memories of all the things that had happened in this bar coming back to him as he surveyed the room, "Yeah, far too long," he replied.

* * *

_Four years earlier_

To many it would seem strange to spend your evening off at work, but for Nick it wasn't something he even really thought much about. He was a serious drinker - yeah he made cocktails, but manly ones. No Mai Tai's or pitchers of sickly sweet Sex on the Beach for him. He also hated music that was too loud - so that ruled out most of the clubs in LA (the only times he ventured to that scene was when he was single, had drank too much vodka and thought he had way much more game than he actually did). So Nick liked to spend his time outside the loft drinking at the bar. Didn't hurt that he had free drinks thrown his way, right?

So it was no surprise to anyone that he wanted to spend his birthday down at Clyde's for the third year in a row. Schmidt had grumbled, Jess had hinted at throwing a party - but in the end, he won.

That evening she had lost count of the number of glasses of wine she'd consumed by the time the bottle of whiskey had somehow found its way from behind the bar to the round table of their booth. Rolling another mouthful of sweet semillon around her tongue, she watched Nick attempt to pour another measure into his glass. "Hey, birthday boy," she said as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, "I think you've had enough."

Pausing, he placed the bottle down with a soft thud and turned to look at her, a sleepy, dozy smile on his face. "Jess, I'm fine..." he said with a slur.

"Yeah, uh huh. Well I'm the one who will have to put you to bed later so maybe let's not test that, okay?"

He chortled, "You want to get me to bed, Ms. Day?" he replied, with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Urgh, men," she sighed as she took another drink.

He slid closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist, "Hey, just kidding baby," he whispered, kissing her cheek and causing her to smile involuntarily. She could never stay mad at him for too long. Even fake mad. She dropped her head onto his shoulder and curled her body into his, the happy haze of alcohol combined with his touch making her feel secure and carefree, as if she could do anything in that moment.

They sat together, side by side in silence. He watched Winston trying to hit on a pretty girl sitting at the bar; though he couldn't see what he was saying her saw the look of disdain on her face and shook his head. Seriously, how does he strike out every time? His eyes drifted over to Schmidt who was holed up over at the other side of the bar in deep conversation with Cece; their heads dipped together, his hand around her waist. He shook his head - he wished those two would just get back together already. Lovesick Schmidt was not fun to live with.

Finally he let his concentration move to the small body beside him, he could feel her breathing softy under his arm. It felt so comfortable, so right. He leant down and laid a soft kiss on her head, just at the spot where her bangs ended, "I love you," he mumbled softly, brushing his thumb over her shoulder as he spoke.

Instantly, her head shot up, eyes darting to his face. It took him a second to realize what he had said.

"Uh," he began, as her jaw dropped ever so slightly and her eyes widened. So this was the moment. He had known for weeks (months?) that he had loved her. But he hadn't known how to tell her. It was a cliche but if he had felt less it would have been easy. No biggie. But this kind of love was scary. He'd never felt like this. He'd been in love before, yeah, but this was Jess... So all those times when the words had been on the tip of his tongue or rising in his throat, he'd brushed them off with a kiss, a sigh, a hug.

But now, with his body relaxed and too tired to lie he turned to her and tried to make his eyes focus on her pretty blue ones. "I love you," he repeated, as if it was something he had told her a million times.

"You do..?" she began, her face crumpling a little as she stared up at him.

"Yeah," he said, the gravity of his words causing the alcohol mist to lift a little, "I have for a long time," he added quietly. A low buzzing began to gather in his ears as he waited for her to say something. He gradually began to recognize it as panic - the increase in blood pressure to his head, as he felt he had made a horrible mistake.

"Are you sure?" she asked finally, slipping her hand onto his thigh, squeezing it a little.

"More than anything," he said in that low, gravelly tone that went right through her. Without speaking she slid her leg over him until she was sitting on his lap, her fingers around his neck and tangling into the edges of his messy hair.

"I love you too," she said. Simply, quietly. No explanation needed. They both paused for a second, grinning at each other as the reality of what they had both said hit them. His heart was racing so loudly he could barely hear the music that filled the bar. How could four little words make him feel this way?

Pulling her into him, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her sweetly before moving apart a little and nuzzling her nose. "I love you," he told her again, wishing that this imperfect perfect moment would never end.

* * *

The last few drops of whiskey rolled easily down his throat as he placed the glass back on the bar. "You know what pal, I've missed you," he said as Winston chuckled softly beside him.

"I think you, my friend, have had a few too many whiskeys!"

"Meh! What's this," he said holding up the glass in from of him, "Second? Third?"

"I think it's your fifth," he replied as he gestured to Bob, "Hey man, let's switch Nick onto something a little lighter." Bob nodded and began filling a glass with Coke before placing it in front of Nick.

He gave Winston a lazy smile as he slouched farther onto the bar. He didn't drink that much liquor any more - he was usually working at parties rather than drinking at them - and he had to admit he'd became a bit of a lightweight with the old spirits. "I really have missed you Winnie. I miss the good old days in the loft: you, me, Schmidty, Je-" his voice stopped as he looked up at his friend, he saw the sympathetic expression that came over his face.

"Nick, I know it must be hard, you know, being back here."

Nick paused as he considered his response, sipping on the sickly sweet soda as he felt some of the drunkenness roll away from his body when she re-entered his mind.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked, twisting so he was facing the other man.

"Sure man," Winston replied, concern etched on his face.

Nick reached up and scratched his forehead, his other hand clawing at the thick material of his jeans, "I've seen her. A bunch of times." He spoke quietly, waiting to see how his friend responded.

"Okay... And?"

The bar seemed to get a lot quieter in that moment and Nick dropped his voice further, "She's engaged." He heard Winston sigh before he added, "But I still love her and I think she wants to be with me."

"Hmm," Winston grumbled as he rubbed his face with his hand, "Wait, if she's engaged how did this come about? And you said you think she wants to- I mean have you actually spoken to her about this?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he wrapped his hand around his glass, "Well, kinda. I mean we kissed. And then last night, we slept together."

"You what? And she's engaged? What the hell were you thinking?" Winston slammed his hand down on the bar and Nick felt himself involuntarily move back.

"I wasn't really thinking man," he shrugged, "She just, you know, she just still has this pull over me. It's magnetic."

Winston felt a little of his annoyance deflate as he looked at Nick. As much as he had changed and moved on in the past few years, he could see that in many ways he was still that insecure, bartending guy who pined for his roommate.

"Look, did you stop to think about this properly? I mean, she is engaged - that's serious -" Nick nodded, "And you come along and - what? Now she is going to drop everything and run off into the sunset with you?"

The words were a bitter pill for Nick to swallow, but he saw the truth in them. This whole thing had been so quick, so unexpected. He hadn't really thought about the finer details.

"This is typical Nick behavior. Not thinking of the consequences. She has a life here, man," Winston moved a little closer and placed his hand on the other man's shoulder, "And why do you think things would end up differently from last time?"

Nick felt his mood darken in an instant. So wrapped up he had been in this fantasy of him and Jess that he hadn't considered the outcome. Why did he think things would be different? Wouldn't he just mess it up like he always did? Only this time it would be ten times worse as she would have left her fiancé to be with him. He could only say it was gut instinct.

"I know you think I'm reckless, pal, but this time I'm sure - sure it will be different. I know this is serious - I mean the timing's not great-"

"I'd say it couldn't be worse-"

"- but if I don't pursue this I'll always regret it. It's Jess, man," he finished giving Winston a sad smile.

Winston squeezed his shoulder again and then twisted away, returning to his drink. "Okay, but be careful," he warned.

* * *

Arriving back at the apartment he was surprised to see Elizabeth still awake, sorting laundry in the living room. She looked up from the pile of baby clothes and Schmidt sized socks and gave him a warm smile, "Hey Nick."

"Hey. Surprised to see you up this late," he said as he moved to sit on the arm of the couch.

"Yeah," she sighed as she bundled a pair of tube socks together, "Only time I get to do this. Who thought such a small thing would take up so much time?"

He smiled as he looked down at her. She looked so happy - tired, but happy. "Good day?" he asked as he shrugged off his jacket.

"Yeah," she nodded as she folded a small, white onesie, "I actually had a visitor."

"You did?" he asked absentmindedly as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Uh-huh," she replied, "Jess. It was Jess."

His mouth went a little dry as he waited for her to say something else. Why was Jess visiting? Did she want to speak to him? His mind buzzed with questions.

"And she asked me to give you this," she reached under the couch cushion behind her and retrieved an envelope, passing it over to him as he began to stand up.

He recognized her fluid script spelling out his name. A somber feeling came over him. Why was she sending him a letter? "I-uh - I'm just going to-"

"Sure," she replied not needing him to finish, "Just one thing Nick?" He turned to look at her, "Whatever that says, I think she still really cares about you."

Nodding slightly, he turned and raced to his room.

* * *

It was short. No more than half a page. His eyes blurred as he read, greedily eating up the words, slipping over them in his haste, 'I'm sorry' ... 'I can't do this' ... 'Steve' ... 'not that kind of girl'...'we had our chance'... 'I'm sorry'...

He crumpled the letter in his hand as he digested its contents. She was ending it. She'd made a commitment and couldn't break it. Had become wrapped up in the moment. It was wrong, she'd said.

He swept the back of his hand over his damp eyes, guilt storming through his body. Winston was right. He hadn't thought about the consequences of what they had done. How she had this life - this great life and then he had came along, crashing her house of cards to the ground. He was selfish. Selfish and impulsive and in that moment his stomach lurched.

All he ever wanted was what was best for her. He'd thought that meant being with her, so he could give her everything she wanted and all the love she'd ever need. But now a new thought emerged. Maybe the best thing for her was to not be with him. And that thought sliced through his heart like a knife, shattering it into a million pieces.

* * *

"So," he said, finally rousing her from her silence, "Do you have something to tell me?"

She felt the color drain from her face as her mind scrambled for words. How had she forgotten about the album? After the break up she had gotten rid of all the pictures, all the momentos - except this. She hadn't the heart to throw those pictures away.

"Um..." her heart pounded as she walked further into the room, "I was in a relationship with Nick."

"I think I worked that out," he said grimly as he thumbed through the plastic coated pages.

She sank to the floor, pulling the strap of her purse over her head as she sat cross legged. "We were roommates first and then we were more than that," she gave him a small simple smile, "But it ended a long time ago as we realized it would never work between us. We are better as friends," she said swallowing as she finished, willing herself to believe what she was saying.

"Well that's all fine and good Jess, but I'm pretty confused about the fact that neither of you thought to mention this fact."

She twisted her legs so they were now under her, her hands clasped in her lap, "I asked him not to. At first I was so surprised to see him I didn't know what say - he'd moved years ago - and then I didn't want to make things weird. You guys were friends and all..." she looked across at him with pleading eyes.

"It doesn't look good Jess," he said quietly. She shuffled forward on her knees until they were touching his. With one hand she took the album out of his hands and placed it to one side. Clasping his hand in hers, she leaned into his body.

"I know, I know," she gave him a soft kiss on the mouth, "Really, it was dumb and I should have told you and... I didn't even know I still had those pictures. I'll throw them out, they mean nothing to me," and she picked up the red leather album and tossed it into the trash can at the foot of the bed.

Steve wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his lap, gently nuzzling her neck, "No more secrets," he whispered in her ear.

"No more secrets," she repeated, "I love you," she told him as she lifted her lips to his, wishing desperately that when she closed her eyes she was no longer imagining another man in his place.

* * *

Morning. He'd gone to work early as usual. She busied herself tidying: making the bed, opening the curtains. She paused as she stood next to the trash can, the small red album sitting in it alone. She dipped down and took it in her hands, running her fingers over the soft grain of the leather. Pausing, she looked around, as if someone could see her. She tiptoed to the closet and pulled out a shoe box where she kept concert ticket stubs and old postcards. She buried the album underneath, carefully arranging the contents to make it almost invisible.

Returning the box to its place, she let the closet door click closed as she lay back against it. _A few pictures can't hurt_ , she told herself.  _Can it?_

* * *

**Forward**

* * *

With a small jolt she winced against the prickling scratch of the pin as it grazed her skin, a sharp intake of breath alerting the seamstress to her discomfort."Only a few more," she mumbled in heavily accented English through the remaining pins she held between her lips.

Waves of heat began to roll over her, radiating her body from head to toe, as the seconds in the changing room ticked slowly by; the walls seem to throb and shift, looming over her ominously, a swarming throbbing sensation growing in her stomach. "Can you hurry?" she asked in a small, breathless voice, desperate the escape her prison.

"Mmm," came the woman's reply, as she busied herself pleating tiny folds into the ivory fabric around her bust; her wiry grey hair rubbing against Jess's chin, she had to wriggle her nose to resist the urge to sneeze. "Okay," she finally said stepping back, tugging at the bodice until a hint of cleavage appeared at the neckline, "You look now."

Taking a deep breath she reached for the red velvet curtain, the material stiff and slightly prickly against her palm, and stepped outside, where Cece sat on an overstuffed cream leather sofa, sipping a glass of sparkling wine. "Oh my God!" she screamed as she saw her friend emerge encased in swathes of silk and lace, "You look amazing! Go look!"

Jess moved over to the small platform which stood at one end of the room, stepping up and turning towards the three full length mirrors. Coming up behind her Cece stood at her side and looked at the reflection in the mirror, "So how do you feel?" she asked as she took a sip from her glass.

"Um," Jess twisted her body from side to side and looked herself up and down. It was surreal. The dress. The silk. The small flowers and crystals embroidered into the fabric. The accents of lace around the neckline and skirt. It was a stunning dress. But she didn't feel how she thought she would. Or how she thought she should. It was surreal: a dream. A dream in which a girl who looked just like her was the one wearing the dress, planning the wedding only days away. She was an observer in her own body, looking on emotionlessly. "Good?" she answered – more of a question itself than an answer.

Cece walked around and sat at Jess's feet. She thumbed the champagne coloured lace and straightened the skirt where it reached the floor, "Good?" she repeated, her face twisting a little as looked up.

Biting her lip, Jess sighed and closed her eyes. When she reopened them she envisaged the final outfit; no pins, hair, veil- just like she'd imagined as a kid - "Okay, not good. Great. Awesome." She managed a full smile as she bushed her hair over her shoulders.

Reaching up, Cece took hold of Jess's hand, "I can't believe you're finally getting married. How long have we dreamed about this?"

"Since forever," she whispered as she gazed at her reflection.

* * *

_Three and a half years ago_

The low hum of the fluorescent lighting filled the empty room. Jess tapped her foot as she waited, thumbing through the pages of a well-worn copy of People magazine - filled with already half-forgotten reality show contestants smiling for cheesy posed photographs-before she tossed it to one side and grabbed the next one on the pile. 'BRIDES' screamed

the title in solid white letters. Superimposed on the cover was a picture of a model wearing a frothy white dress, the sun streaming through the trees in the background. Behind her stood her 'groom'; an arm wrapped around her waist, his head was dipped into her neck, so his face was in profile - his dark hair was ruffled and curly. She smiled and drew her finger over the picture - if she looked at it the right way it could be him. Mentally she changed the color of the model's hair from ash blonde to chestnut and dropped her height a few inches. Yes, she could almost imagine…

"Sorry Jess," Melissa cried as she rushed into the room, "Traffic was crazy!" Jess dropped the magazine and walked over to the other woman who was pushing a small pink stroller. "Say hi to Aunty Jess, Sophie!" Jess squatted so she was at eye level with the little girl, her dark blonde curls stuck straight up at odd angles from her head; in her mouth she chewed on one chubby, pale pink hand.

"Hey gorgeous girl," Jess cooed.

"Dess," the little girl mumbled as she kicked out her feet.

"Close enough," Jess laughed.

Melissa handed her a small blue tote as Sadie finally emerged from her office, "Oh Jess - thank you so much of taking her for the night! We really appreciate it," she walked over and wrapped her arm around her wife's waist.

"No problem guys, we are going to have a great time!" she smiled.

_That evening_

"Hey Nick, can you help me?" Jess called from the living room, one arm wrapped around Sophie's waist as she held her at her hip and the other trying to answer her phone.

She heard door creak open and him pad into the living room, "I told you I'm not good with kids, Jess," he said grumpily as he saw her struggling, the little girl was singing happily to herself as she played with Jess's hair.

"Can you just hold her a second?" she said into the phone as she finally managed to press the answer button, before dropping her hand to her side, "You told me a bunch of times you're good with babies."

"Sophie is not a baby. She's a - well I don't know what you call her but she is not a baby!"

Jess placed her phone down on the couch and walked over to Nick, placing the little girl into his unwilling arms, "She is a toddler Nick. I need to answer this call. Just watch her, please." She gave Nick a look that told him this was non-negotiable as she walked to her room with her phone.

It took longer than she thought to get back to the living room and she was surprised to find the two of them sitting on the sofa - the TV was now playing Nick Jr.; brightly colored images of dancing animated dinosaurs flashed across the screen. Sophie was curled up in his arms; her small hands clasping the soft flannel of his shirt as she took light, hiccupping breaths. His head rolled to one side as he slowly ran his fingers through her soft curls.

"Sorry I took so - aw!"

"Shhh!" he whispered, "I think she's falling asleep!"

She tiptoed over to the sofa, watching the girl's small eyelids flutter and half close, "Wow Nick," she said softly as she sat beside him, "You have the magic touch! I've been trying to tire her out for two hours."

He turned his head to her and shrugged. The little girl's head slowly slipped against his chest as the credits began to roll on the cartoon. "And she's off," he said softly as he gazed down at her tiny body. The two sat quietly for a few minutes; watching the small rises of the little girl's chest as her cute snuffles filled the air. Jess gazed at the two of them - she'd never seen Nick with a kid before. Certainly not holding one.

"You look mighty comfortable there, Miller," she whispered.

"It's not so bad," he said, looking up at her. He waited a minute before adding, "I could get used to it." Her stomach twisted as he spoke and she felt something leap in her chest.

"Um, maybe little miss should go to bed now," she said, deciding to change the subject.

"Yeah," he agreed, standing and scooping the little girl in his arms before walking to Jess's room. The small body slumped against his as he carried her across the apartment, as Jess walked behind him she could see a few golden curls peeping over his shoulder. In a flash she saw a future – this same scene except not in apartment 4D, it was somewhere different, their own place. And the child wasn't Sadie and Melissa's – it was their own.

As they settled Sophie and turned on the baby monitor she watched Nick with new eyes.

"You are full of surprises, Miller," she whispered as he closed the door to her room with a soft click.

"Is that so?" he teased, placing his warm hands on her waist, at the point where her hips curved inwards.

"Yeah…bartender, writer, handyman and good with kids too? Phew," she pretended to fan herself with her hand, "You, my boy, are a keeper."

He leaned a little closer until she could feel his breath tickling her skin, "I'll hold you to that," he replied, before stealing a quick kiss from her; then he dropped his hands and turned for the living room – watching her over his shoulder until he turned the corner.

Surprised, she placed her fingers on her lips where they had touched his and smiled, before skipping after him, determined to finish that kiss.

* * *

"Jess? Jess?"

The sounds of Cece's voice shook Jess from her memories.

"You totally zoned out there babe!" Cece was now stood in front of her, her hands clasping her shoulders, "I was worried!"

"Oh, I'm sorry just so – so tired, y'know?" she replied as she stepped down from the platform and reached for her glass of champagne from the tall steel and glass table where it stood, taking a swift gulp.

"Well, you are the one who decided to plan a wedding in six weeks!"

"Yup," Jess agreed as she flopped onto the couch, "Well, that's me. Crazy."

Cece walked over and perched on the arm of the couch next to Jess, reaching forward with her elbows on her knees, "You're still sure Jess, right? I mean, when you decided to move everything up I thought it was because of-"

Jess sat stiffer in the chair and twisted to face her, "When you know, you know right?"

"I guess," Cece replied uncertainly, "I mean, I've never really had that feeling before…"

"Never?" Jess asked, resting her chin on her hands.

"I don't think so. Schmidt was the closest I got and…"

"Yeah," Jess nodded, not needing her to finish, "I know. Steve is a good man. I know he will love me and take care of me, we want the same things - that's what I need, right?"

"And you love him," Cece added.

Jess tilted her head and looked at the pictures that lined the walls, happy brides and grooms, their faces bright, smiling, hopeful. Moments of pure love captured and collected.

Maybe in a while a picture of her and Steve would be mounted and join the collection.

"Yes, of course I do. He's a good man."

"You said that already," Cece said, brushing a curly tendril of hair from her friends face.

"Did I?" Jess replied, absentmindedly. Cece slipped to the floor and took Jess's hands in her own, squeezing them lightly.

"Babe, if you're not sure, now is the time to say it. There is no shame in saying you having second thoughts." Jess just stared ahead, her eyes still focused on the faces of the dozens of beaming brides, "Jess, I didn't want to say it before, but you've not been yourself for weeks now, ever since-" Jess dipped her head to look at Cece, silencing her, her eyes begging her not to say his name. "Maybe I was wrong," she continued, rubbing her fingers across Jess's hands.

"No, er, he-" she hesitated before pulling her hands from her friend's and standing up,walking over to a gilt mirror that hung on the wall beside the sofa, "That was cold feet Cece, I told you, a big mistake. I know what I'm doing," she said, nodding at her image, "I'm making the right decision." She twisted round to look at her before finishing the glass in one mouthful, "I've got to start growing up and getting the things I've always wanted Cece. You know, a family."

"Okay," agreed Cece, watching the determined look on her friends face, "Come on get changed, I think we need a real drink!"

* * *

"Have you been here before?" she asked, as she slid her carefully manicured fingers across the bar's varnished sheen. He held onto his tumbler of whisky on the rocks and brought it slowly to his lips whilst nodding.

"Yeah," he replied as he ran his tongue across his lips - they felt cold and a little numb from the ice, "But a long time ago. It hasn't changed," he laughed as he returned the glass to the black napkin where it had began.

"Oh yeah, Schmidt said you had lived in LA before," she crossed her leg slowly and purposefully and leaned a little closer to him, her blonde hair slipping over one shoulder, "So if you don't mind me asking, why did you leave?"

He looked his date up and down as she sipped on her wine; all long legs and big green eyes. She had made an effort; her not insignificant curves just covered enough by her blue figure hugging dress. Her hair was glossy and shiny - like in those shampoo ads. The perfume she wore smelled expensively floral.

Suddenly he was aware he was staring and he shook his head, bringing a half smile to his lips, "Honestly?" he asked; she nodded. "Honestly, I left because of a girl."

"Wow, must have been some woman," she replied, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth and shifting on the stool where she sat. "So I take it that she's no longer an issue for you?"

Nick hesitated, rubbing his palms briefly together and smiling softly, "You could say that," he finally managed before finishing what was left of his drink.

* * *

_Three and a half years ago_

"Nick, please just let me look where I'm going!"

"That will ruin the surprise Jess!"

She sighed and continued to step hesitantly forward. Behind her he had one large hand clasped over her face, covering her eyes. The other held onto her hand, steadying her and guiding her movement. "Just a few more seconds," he whispered into her ear, tickling the skin of her neck and making her wriggle a little against him.

As they came to a stop she could feel a cool breeze against the bare skin of her arms, tiny bumps of flesh rising against it; tendrils of her hair escaped her hair tie and began to fly around her head like the flickers of a flame.

"Okay, look." With a flourish, he removed his hands. She blinked a few times, her eyes blurred a little as they adjusted to this new freedom. Her vision was smudged at first, a haze of bright lights and pinky colored sky, until the scene came into focus. The fading sun. The pier. The brightly coloured ferris wheel. With a smile she turned to face him, slipping her hands around him and pushing them into the pockets at the back of his jeans.

"You old romantic," she chuckled as she reached up and covered his mouth with her own, pushing herself onto the tips of her toes, lightly sweeping her tongue against his.

"I try," he said, a little breathlessly, as she tipped her head back, before turning around and lying back against him. His arms reached around and covered hers, wrapping them around her body in a kind of hug and resting his chin on her shoulder. "So I did good?" he asked, his lips brushing against her earlobe, a shiver rippling through her - starting at the base of her neck and radiating out towards her limbs. She squeezed his hands in reply.

"Very good. Happy anniversary," she replied softly as the sank into him.

Nuzzling into her neck, he sighed. Enjoying the sensation of her body, cool and soft, beneath his. A year ago they had last came here - their first real date. They'd walked to the pier and ate cotton candy. He'd won her giant pink stuffed bear on the basketball toss. Then they'd came to the pier's edge and watched the sun set. Just like they were doing now. It had been a perfect evening.

"Who'd have thought it, eh? You and me. Still going strong after 12 months."

She turned her head and rubber her cheek against his, "I did," she admitted, lifting up her hand to cup the other side of his face. The sun was slowly slipping beneath the horizon, casting a golden glow over the water. Birds were gliding lazily across the pinkish-yellow sky. The final rays of daylight cast long shadows from the pier railings.

"I love you," she whispered.

Closing his eyes he held her even more tightly. "I love you too," he replied, "more than you'll ever know."

* * *

"Sorry?" he said for about the fifth time that evening.

"Zucchini," she said; he still looked puzzled. "You were saying that you didn't understand what a sweet potato was and I said the same thing about zucchini. It's a confused cucumber, right?"

Laughing softly, he nodded. She was a nice girl. Really nice. Pretty too. That made him feel ten times worse. Ten times as guilty for the fact his mind had been elsewhere the whole evening. Elsewhere with another woman, on the other side of the city.

"And don't even get me started with gherkins," she teased as she pushed her hair back from her face.

The waiter brought over the bill and Nick settled up before they headed for the door. They stood a little awkwardly outside on the sidewalk: she hugged her arms a little against the chill as he rocked back and forth slightly in his heels.

"It was great to meet you, Nick," she said.

"You too Megan." Then silence. She was waiting. For him to say something? To kiss her?

Leaning down he started to give her a small, safe, goodnight kiss. No hands. No body touching. Having other ideas, she hooked her hands around his neck and turned the kiss into a something much more - a damp, deep, hungry kiss that he sharply pulled away from, leaving her confused.

A cab pulled up and she stepped towards it. "Um, call me?" she said expectantly.

"Yeah," he promised as he rubbed his lips, knowing he was most likely lying. She stepped into the cab and it rolled away as he stood watching.

"Nick?"

He turned and found himself face to face with Cecelia Parekh.

"Cece?" he gave her a half smile as they both surveyed each other. His mind leaped to the last time they had seen each other. "About the party..."

She shook her hand in his face, "Old news Nick, let's just forget that happened."

Relieved, he nodded. "So how are you?" and  _how is Jess_ , he wanted to add.

"Great, just here to see the manager. Such a busy day, getting things ready."

His interest piqued, "Ready?"

She flicked her hair over her shoulder and placed her black silk purse under her arm, "For next week. The wedding." She spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The wedding. There was only one wedding she could be talking about. Why was she saying this to him? To torture him.

"Oh, that's... soon," he replied, feeling his heart plummet into his feet.

"Yeah I know, like six weeks ago she became determined to get it over and done with. Funny that," she raised her eyebrows at him.

Steve's party was just over six weeks ago.

"And the rehearsal dinner is Friday, here actually," she pointed behind her.

"What a coincidence," he said as another cab pulled up, "Right, um, my ride's here. It was, it was nice to see ya." He gave her another awkward smile. Desperate to escape. Desperate to have time to think.

"You too Miller," she said with a wink, turning into the restaurant as he got in the cab.

Inside, he sank into the seat, his body leaden and his brow furrowed. Absentmindedly,he gave the driver the address as his massaged his temple with his fingertips. Would he ever get over her?

* * *

**Boomerang**

* * *

"You almost ready babe?" Cece asked as she peeked around the bedroom door.

"Sure, just gotta find my shoe," Jess replied as she fumbled under the bed for her other red pump. Finally her fingers scraped over the spike of a heel and she pulled the shoe out triumphantly, "Yes!" she exclaimed as she slipped it onto her foot.

Stepping into the room Cece pushed the door shut behind her. The apartment was quiet - Steve had already gone ahead to the restaurant to finish the preparations and left them to take a cab. Walking over to where Jess stood, she held out a small blue foiled gift bag with a large polka dotted bow attached to the front. "For you, a small pre-wedding gift."

Jess took the bag with a small smile and sank down to sit on the bed, "Cece, you didn't have to..."

"Hey, I'm your maid of honor. Let me enjoy it! Besides, it's just something small."

Jess reached into the bag and pulled out a small, flat black box tied with a blue ribbon. She released the knot and lifted the lid, pulling away the layer of fluffy tissue that lay underneath. Below that there was a small silver bangle; she took it out and studied it carefully.

On closer inspection, it was more of a cuff - about a centimetre in width. She flipped it over and her heart skipped: punched into the metal were the words 'follow your heart'. Her fingers tightened around the words as she felt her stomach clench. It had been doing that a lot lately. She felt Cece sit beside her and place a hand on her arm. "You okay babe?"

Jess nodded, "Yeah," she replied as she loosened her fingers and once more looked at the words, "It's beautiful. Thank you." She wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and hugged her close. Squeezing her eyes shut, stemming the tide of emotion rising in her throat. Sitting back on the bed she sniffed a little as she hooked the bracelet over her wrist. "Oh God, here I am - getting all emotional again!"

Cece fished a tissue out of her purse, "Here ya go." Jess dabbed at the dampness in the corner of her eyes. "I saw this in a shop in Malibu a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you. 'Follow your heart'."

Jess looked up and caught Cece's eye - her words seemed loaded. Her friend had been acting a little strangely in the past week: giving Jess weird looks and asking lots of questions about how she was feeling. Nodding she looked up at her friend, "That's what I'm doing now right? Following my heart. To the altar."

Cece nodded slightly, adding, "Because you love Steve."

"Yeah, because I love Steve," Jess repeated as she stood up. "I'm just heading to the ladies room before we leave, give me two minutes."

Cece watched her friend walk away and sighed, crumpling the bag in her palm. She could see it in her eyes - her heart was not in this. It was like she was sleepwalking into marriage. She knew if she called Jess on it she would deny it, so she had resorted to trying to make her realize herself. She was so damn stubborn. Anyway, maybe it was too late. The wedding was tomorrow. Maybe, actually, she was wrong about the whole thing.

Her head buzzing, she tossed the wrapping into the trash can and left the room.

* * *

The Cubs game blared out over the TV as Nick and Schmidt sipped cool bottles of Heisler on the couch. Nick was tired. It had been a long week. The business was really starting to take off and he had taken on five new clients in the past four days; it was exhausting. In a way he was also secretly pleased. He now had so little free time that his mind had a lot less time to think about ... her. At least when he was awake. Now she mainly tormented him only in his dreams. Her lips, her eyes, her laugh. Her.

But tonight was different. Because he knew what tonight was - where she was, what she was doing and with whom. He felt hollow inside. Images kept springing into his mind. Steve's hand on hers, his arm around her at the table, him making some dumb speech as she looked on adoringly. Scowling, he pursed his lips and brooded into his beer. He'd respected her decision. Left her alone.  _Give it up Miller._

"So Megan really liked you," Schmidt said as a commercial for potato chips began, "You taking her out again?"

Nick shrugged, "I dunno man, she's a nice girl but-"

"She's not Jess," Schmidt finished. Nick silently took another sip and stared straight ahead at the screen. "Hey pal, I thought you'd decided to move on."

Scratching his head, Nick leant back, "I'm trying. I can't stop thinking about her, Schmidt. It's driving me crazy." He began to pick at the paper wrapper of the bottle as he stared at the screen.

Leaning forward, Schmidt pushed his bottle onto the table in from of him and twisted to face him. "Okay, I need to say something to you." Nick looked up, "I get it. You and Jess."

"Whaddya mean?" Nick asked, confused.

"This thing between you - this, whatever it is - that's making you like this. Elizabeth said she had spoken to Jess a while back and the way she described her behaving - it's just like you are now. All sad eyed and lost looking."

Nick listened carefully to what his friend had to say. He wanted to pour his heart out to him and be finally able to express what he had hidden inside for weeks now. But he didn't. He knew how Schmidt felt about him meddling in Jess's life.

"What I am trying to say is, I'm sorry. When all this started up again with her I know I was pretty vocal about my opposition. But maybe I was wrong."

"Well, thanks. I guess," Nick replied slowly as he drank the last drop of his beer. He stood up and picked another bottle from the small cooler beside the couch, twisting off the cap and throwing it down. "But it's one hundred percent over Schmidt. She's moved up the wedding. Actually, the rehearsal dinner is tonight."

"How do you-"

"Cece. I saw her last week, when I was on my date actually," Nick laughed a little at himself. "So that's that. I'll be fine," he added. More for himself than for Schmidt.

Schmidt picked up the remote and muted the television. "No. No this is all wrong. All wrong."

"Huh?" Nick asked. It was like he was in a daze, this change is Schmidt's attitude was making his head feel fuzzy.

Schmidt suddenly stood up, "You need to go. Now. Tell her."

"Tell her what? What more can I say? She wants to marry him. I've stood aside like a good guy would."

"No!" Schmidt began to wave his arms in the air, suddenly animated, "You are both stubborn idiots. This is what broke you up the first time. Now you have a second chance and you're going to give up?"

"You saw the letter!"

Sighing Schmidt dropped back to the sofa. "I know, and I'm sure that's what she thinks she wants. But isn't it worth one more try?"

The TV screen flickered to life as the game began again; Nick slipped back against the sofa and spoke softly. "I can't just turn up at her rehearsal dinner and make a scene..."

"You don't have to make a scene, Nick. Just speak to her. What have you got to lose?"

_What have you got to lose?_ The words bounced around inside his head as he rubbed his face. Quickly he stood and made for the door.

"Nothing," he said, as he pulled open the door and left.

* * *

"More wine sweetheart?" Steve asked as Jess picked at her Caesar salad.

She mumbled in reply, "Mmm-hmmm," passing him her glass as her eyes swept over the table.

So this was her rehearsal dinner. Surrounded by her closest family and friends she had spent the afternoon at the chapel she had found in West LA, practicing for tomorrow's ceremony. Who would stand here, who would sit there, who would say what. It was overwhelming. She was so scared that she would mess up – forget her vows, drop her bouquet, trip on her dress. So, she gulped down another large mouthful of pinot grigio blush – allowing it to silence her worries, if only temporarily.

Cece sat across from her – strategically in between Bob and Joan. Jess stared at her parents as they talked animatedly as Cece sat back and sipped her vodka soda. She would never understand how two people so perfect for each other couldn't make it work. She saw the way her mom smiled when Bob looked at her in that special way. Bob too seemed to have this glow when they talked. So they argued sometimes – so what? All the best relationships have passion. Otherwise, what's the point – right?

She pushed her plate aside – her stomach was too tied up in knots to digest anything right now. Pre-wedding jitters – they talked about them in all the magazines. Twisting she looked around to get the waiter's attention when her eyes were drawn to the podium at the entrance to the restaurant. Shifting in her chair she pushed herself up, until she saw who it was.

"Nick?" hissed Steve beside her as he turned to see what she was looking at, "What the hell?"

Jess gave him a confused expression and shrugged her shoulders, "I have no idea…" She looked across the table at Cece. She was watching Jess carefully as Bob and Joan continued their conversation around her.

"I can't believe he would have the nerve-" Steve pushed back his chair and tossed his napkin on the table, "I'm gonna-"

Jess grabbed his arm and pulled him down, "Please, please don't make a scene. Let me go talk to him," she begged with pleading eyes.

"Jess…"

"Please Steve? Let's not ruin this. I'll get rid of him." She pursed her lips as she waited for him to say something. Finally, he nodded and sat back down. Thankfully, no one really seemed to have noticed. As she stood up, she excused herself.

Walking quickly she met Nick halfway, he seemed surprised when she took his arm and pivoted him around, marching him back towards the door. "What are you doing here?" she whispered loudly as they moved, keeping a sharp smile on her face.

"I needed to see you," he replied as they reached the large glass door to the street. She pushed it open and quickly hurried him outside.

"Seriously Nick? Why? Why now? You need to leave!" She folded her arms and looked at him defiantly.

"I know I'm probably too late and this is crazy- but I love you. And this feels wrong. All wrong."

Jess huffed and ran her hand through her hair, a bubble of anger rising in her throat. "Haven't we already dealt with this Nick? I've told you. I'm marrying Steve. Tomorrow."

"But you don't love him," he stated matter of factly.

"And how would you know?" she scoffed. She felt a hot flush rise up her chest, across her neck and making her ears burn.

"Because I know you Jessica!" he cried, taking a step closer to her.

"Oh yeah?" she retorted.

"Hell yeah. Better than anyone else. And you know it," he snapped back, his voice getting louder. His heart was pounding and he felt a vein in his neck throb.

She stared at him, his eyes narrowed and his mouth hanging open. In that moment she both wanted to slap him hard and kiss him even harder. How dare he show up now? She had told him. She had told him and he'd just-

"Well if you know me so damn well then why did you give up on us? Why didn't you fight?"

He jumped back, startled at her outburst. Quickly she slapped a hand over her face, her eyes wide in shock. What had she just said?

"Jess-" Nick began.

"Hey, Nick, beat it." Steve chose that moment to appear at the door, stepping close to Jess and wrapping an arm around her.

"We were talking Steve," Nick replied, not looking at the other man.

"Well, I think that's done now. You need to go."

Nick looked at Jess, willing her to say something, confirm what she had blurted out only moments earlier. But she avoided his gaze, instead staring down at the cold grey pavement, still shiny with dampness from an earlier downpour.

Nick sighed and his shoulders sagged, "Fine. Good luck." He turned to leave before adding under his breath, "You'll need it."

Steve pulled Jess inside to the warmth of the restaurant, hugging her closely as he walked.

"You okay? What a jerk showing up like that!"

"Yeah. But I'm fine," she promised, "Hey I'm just going to freshen up." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and hurried to the restroom.

* * *

The first place he found to stop was a bus shelter. He really needed to find a cab but for the moment he needed to think clearly.

The hard, plastic seat was cold and uncomfortable and the light from the advertising sign gave an eerie glow to the quiet street. Mentally, he kicked himself. What had he just done? What had he accomplished?

Well, he had made his last ever conversation with Jessica Day an argument. The image of her flushed cheeks and blazing eyes engraved on his mind. Then there was what she has said.

_Why didn't you fight?_  Why didn't he? She had him so confused as to what she wanted and what he wanted - all the feelings, events and emotions were a jumble in his head. He felt like his head was so full it could explode any minute. He needed to let out some of the pressure before he screamed.

So he cried. Softly at first. Gentle drops, running down his cheeks, which he wiped away quickly with the back of his hand. That was until it reached his chest and it became a hiccupping, heaving kind of cry – a sob if you like.

Snowballing out of his control, the tears became faster, heavier, saltier until they flowed like twin rivers from his eyes. Rivers of sadness and confusion and regret. All that pent up emotion he had hidden inside spilling out in one moment. He laid his head back against the clear acrylic walls of the shelter, his hand covering his face as he just let it all out. All out.

* * *

Her breathing was pitched and strained. She was trying to be as quiet as possible. Desperately she dabbed at her eyes – the last thing she wanted was to walk back to the table with mascara running down her cheeks – but her emotions had other ideas.

She shook her head, trying to snap herself out of this daze. Get a grip Jessica, she told herself.

There was a knock on the stall, "Jess?"

"Cece?"

"Yeah babe, I was worried about you."

Jess unlocked the stall and pulled her inside, quickly fastening the bolt behind.

Cece saw her swollen eyes and the wad of tissue in her hand and immediately reached out to touch her friend's shoulder. "Babe – are you okay?"

"Uh-huh," Jess sniffed, unconvincingly. "Just nerves you know?" Jess flipped the toilet lid closed and sat down.

"So it was nothing to do with a certain former roommate?"

Jess glared back at Cece, "No."

"You don't have to lie to me Jess, I-"

"No. No Cece! I've told you. I love Steve. I love Steve," she repeated. "I just got emotional. I'm doing the right thing."

Cece nodded. It looked like she was fighting a losing battle and she was ready to raise the white flag. "Okay."

"Can you please just say I'm feeling a little sick and I'll be out in a few moments? I need to-" she gestured to her face and Cece nodded.

"I will," she kissed Jess on the forehead as he hand went to the door, "Jess, you know I've always got your back –right? Even if I show it in strange ways sometimes?"

Jess smiled as Cece left the stall. Picking up her purse she pulled out her compact and looked at her face, tear stained and red eyed. Her eyes were drawn to the silver band on her wrist – she ran her fingers over the words, saying them in her head, 'follow your heart'.

"Follow your heart," she said aloud as she patted on a fresh layer of powder, "Follow your heart."

* * *

**Run**

* * *

His neck ached as he woke. Still fully dressed from the night before, his head pounded and his eyes stung. For a minute he struggled to remember what had happened - tried to differentiate between fact and fiction, reality and dream.

Images began to pepper his mind. The restaurant, Jess, the bus stop and finally heading to Clyde's and having six, seven whiskeys? He'd lost count. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over, pushing his head into his pillow.

Well, he had proved he hadn't really changed. Things hadn't gone his way and he had once more lost himself in a bottle of liquor. He rubbed his head against the soft cotton of the pillow, before pulling it up. His eyes watered and blinked at the bright sunlight that was spilling into his apartment.

Actually, it still didn't feel like his. Even though he'd been living there for three weeks, he still seemed to spend a lot of time at Schmidt's. Being alone wasn't something he was good at.

But today he was glad for his solitude. Rolling out of bed, he stumbled to the kitchen to rustle up a strong cup of black coffee.

He was almost at the kitchen when suddenly, the final puzzle piece emerged. She'd said no. Today she was getting married. He had lost. He felt his stomach clench and nausea roll over him. Searching around for for his keys, he shoved his feet into his shoes and made for the apartment door. Air, he needed air.

* * *

The paper shook in her hands as her lips mumbled through the words. Although she had read them a hundred times already they were stubbornly refusing to take seed in her mind. Frustrated, she pushed the note into her pocket and sat down at her dresser.

The pale pink waffle robe she wore highlighted the flush of her cheeks. Cece had done an amazing job of hiding the tiredness that currently seeped through her bones. The dark shadows she had woken with, a momento of her sleepless night, were barely visible through the creamy layers of concealer.

Picking up her brush, she ran it through her soft curls one last time before she picked up the silver and crystal hair pin that lay in front of her. She gathered the top part of her hair into a twist and pushed in the pin.

Looking in the mirror, she stared at herself. "You are doing the right thing Jessica. You pull yourself together woman - this is you wedding day." Her stomach quivered in reply. Hush, she told it, as she began to undo her robe and reached for the dress that hung on the door of her wardrobe.

* * *

He sat rubbing his hands on the wheel of the car. He wasn't sure how long he had been there - maybe an hour? All he knew was that the sun had almost hit its peak and it wouldn't be long now.

The sickness had dulled and he only felt numbness now. In truth, part of him thought he should hate her. Hate her for the way she had pulled and pushed him these past few months. The way she had sent his emotions into a tail spin.

Of course, he couldn't. The problem was he got it. He understood her confusion and he couldn't blame her. He knew he wasn't good enough. Pushing his key into the ignition he started the engine. Get away, he had to get away.

* * *

In the back of the limo she stared out of the tinted window. Beside her sat her father Bob, engaged in conversation with her cousin Julia, her bridesmaid. Cece was in front of her, holding her bouquet of tea roses and giving her encouraging smiles.

"How are you feeling?"

"Umm. Good. Yeah, I'm good " Jess smiled, bringing her hands into her lap and rubbing her thumbs together.

In her head, she tried to recite her vows, tried to remember the words she had spent so long composing.

I promise to love you with all my heart, to always be true to you. I give you all that I have, all that I am. Everything that is mine is yours, all that is me and all that will be.

Blinking, she pressed the button to roll down the window, a gust of cool air filled the space around her, making her veil twist around her face and stick to her lips.

Other words began to fill her mind. The ones that had echoed back and forth since they had spilled from her lips the previous night. Why didn't you fight for us? Why did you give up? She squeezed her eyes shut as the bile rose in her stomach. Her ears filled with a loud buzzing sound. In front of her she could see Cece's lips moving. What was she saying? She couldn't hear. Her vision darkened until she could only see specks of light as the space around her began to spin.

"Stop! Stop!" she cried, clawing at the door handle, "Pull over!"

She felt the car swerve to the right, before it slowed and finally stopped. She yanked the door open and stumbled out into the bright, early afternoon light.

"Jess!"

Sound began to penetrate her mind. The noise of the traffic. The sound of Cece's concerned voice and her father's calling from the car, asking what was wrong.

The tears welled in her eyes as she turned to her friend. "I can't. Cece - I can't."

Her breath shuddering she fell into her friend's arms. She couldn't do this. It was wrong. She could never be his girl- Steve's girl - when her heart pined for someone else. As soft tears fell, she pulled the comb that held her veil out of her hair and handed it to Cece.

"I have to go," she told her.

"What, Jess, at least let us-"

Jess shook her head. "No, I can't, I'm sorry. But I do need to call Steve."

Sighing, Cece dug into her purse and pulled out her cellphone, "Here."

With shaking hands, Jess dialled the familiar number until she heard him pick up.

"Steve, I need to talk to you."

* * *

Staring out over the cool blue ocean, he watched as the sun began to set. So it was done. His arms balanced on the railing at the edge of the pier, his hands clasped as he leaned against it. So this was how it felt. That loss, so final -a bereavement in a way. If he'd thought the pain of their break up those few years ago was unsurpassable, he knew differently now.

The helplessness was the worst part. That feeling that his emotions were out of his control. They belonged to someone else and there was nothing he could do to change the way he felt. He had to just ride it out and wait for the ache to lessen.

Turning around, he lay back against the railing and breathed in the salty air. Silently he scolded himself. This was a dumb place to come to -a place that had meant so much to them. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he pushed himself up and started to walk back to his car.

But then he saw something. At first, it was just a blur, a white blur. But as it came closer he saw it was a woman in a dress. He held his breath as the figure came into focus. Suddenly he gasped. It was her.

"Jess?"

"Nick, thank God, I've been looking for you," she ran the last few paces towards him, her voice shaking as she spoke.

For a moment, he couldn't speak. She looked so beautiful. Her long, pale ivory dress perfectly complimenting her creamy complexion. Her cheeks flush with color.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've called it off Nick. It's over." She stepped closer and he could see her eyes, glassy with the remains of tears.

"What, why - I thought-"

She cut him off as she closed the small gap between them. Pulling him into a brief kiss and entwining her hand in his. Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him.

"I was a fool. An idiot. I thought I could just forget you and all the feelings would just go away."

Nick took a step backwards and took in her earnest, hopeful expression. He shook his head.

"I'm not the right person for you Jess, all along your father was right," Nick said as he pulled away from her.

"No, stop that, he's not-"

"No Jess, he was. I thought that if I got a few things sorted in my life that it would be different. That it would fix us." He pushed the hand she had been holding into his jean pocket and turned to look out over the rolling waves of the ocean, "But what's wrong with me - it can't be fixed. You deserve more-"

"Nick, stop, please. I'm here trying to tell you that I love you and-"

He swung his head back to look at her, his eyes shining, "And I love you Jess, more than you could ever possibly know," she felt her heart twinge at his words, "But you yourself told me that it's not enough. That what you want-" his voice began to crack a little, "Isn't always what you- what you need," his breathing was labored and his words came out in small bursts - like it was painful for him to say these things that were running through his mind.

"And who gets to decide that, Miller? Who decides what I need? You? Cece? My parents? Oh wait - I think the person who will decide what I need should be me."

With his free hand he rubbed his face, the soft ocean breeze picked up, whipping past them both - the flimsy material of her dress providing little insulation from its icy fingers.

He watched as a tiny shiver ran through her and her brow furrowed a little. Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned away from her - leaning on the red metal railing, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and chase the chill away.

"Nick, look at me," she cried as he stubbornly kept his gaze on the horizon, as the suns rays began to turn the water a golden pink color. "Nick," she cried again, this time jabbing her hand into his side angrily, "Goddamnit!"

"Jess, I'm trying to do what's best for you. We don't work. You said it yourself," he set his mouth in a straight lined grimace, turning rigid. If he waited long enough she would understand. Leave.

"For Christ's sake, Miller," Jess said, this time almost screaming as grabbed his arm and swung him around. He was taken off guard by her actions and gasped as he turned to face her. Without waiting she flung her arms around him, pushing his back against the rail, her lips pressing against his in a panic of love and desperation. It was the only way she could think of in that moment of explaining what she was trying to say, using her lips, her hands, her body. Words were not enough. Her passion sank though her kiss, spilled across through her fingers. She lost track of time as she poured herself into him until she had to stop for air, resting her forehead on his cheek, watching the waves crashed behind him as they breathed deeply together.

She rubbed her nose softly against his cheek, twisting her head until their faces lay against each other, "I was wrong," she sighed softly as she peeled herself away tilting her chin to look into his cool, dark eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched as his gaze flitted between her baby blues and her lips as she formed the words, "What I've been trying to say is I was wrong. All along," she slipped her arms down his back until they settled around his waist, her fingers wrapping around the thick leather of his belt and feeling his body shudder a little at her touch.

"I've spent so long trying to follow someone else's rules Nick. And where has that got me? I'm not happy. The last time I was really happy was with you," she stopped for a second as a small tear began to roll down her cheek. He reached out and brushed it away with his thumb, leaving a thick trail of moisture in its wake. She quickly twisted her head and kissed the thumb before he had time to pull it away, his eyes quickly met hers, a small smile on his face.

"But you have this whole life here Jess, and I came along and ruined it. You were all set up-"

"I was doing what I thought I should do Nick, not what I really wanted. Or needed," she said stepping closer to him. "I was kidding myself. I had this perfect, perfect man in my life and I let him slip away. Because I was too scared to follow my heart. I'm not going to let that happen twice."

He stared at her. Her cheeks flushed from cool breeze. The silk of her dress flapping around her, like an angel. "Jess-" he said dipping his head to the ground.

"Nick, I'm standing here - asking you to take me back. I've been stupid, stubborn and frankly I'm ashamed of my behavior," her voice dropped as her stomach clenched in fear, "Don't make me beg," her voice croaked.

And he had no retort to give her. All his arguments were exhausted. Quietly he slipped his arms around her back and pressed her against his chest, sinking his hands into her tangled hair as he brought her mouth up to meet his. He took his time, brushing his lips against her - slowly at first until she began to press up against him, her tongue dipping into his mouth, her hands leaving his waist and clawing his back.

His hands sunk into her body. The thin silk of her dress revealed every muscle, ever curve as his hands slid over its surface. Slowly he dipped her backwards, pressing her waist towards his own. One hand tangled into her windswept hair.

He pulled back and looked at her seriously.

"I still can't cook-"

"I can." She reached up for his lips again.

"Actually I can make pretty good sandwiches."

"That's not cooking," she smiled, flashing a look at his lips, "But I fricking love sandwiches."

They kissed again, a slower, more leisurely kiss. This was real. It was happening.

"I'm still really bad at laundry." He mumbled into her mouth.

"Uh-huh."

He grasped her face with his hands and gazed at her face. "I only wear underwear like half the time."

She laughed and tugged him closer, "That has its advantages."

* * *

They sat in Nick's car, the giddiness of earlier had faded into a happy buzz as the two sat silently.

She turned to look at him and smiled. A happy, heartfelt smile. He turned and met her gaze and returned the look. She felt herself melt a little.

"So what now?" he asked, starting the engine.

Suddenly her mind was blank and she shook her head, "I have no idea."

* * *

**Alone**

* * *

Closing the door behind him, he tossed his keys on the small table beside it and followed Jess into the living room. She stood at its center, looking around at the bare, neutral space – currently occupied by a coffee colored sofa and a wide screen. It smelled heavily of fresh paint and new carpeting.

"So this is your new place?" she said, turning to look at him.

"Yeah," he replied, running a hand through his hair, "It's kinda, um, empty…"

"That it is," she laughed.

They turned to look at each other, both feeling at that moment that the six feet between their bodies not the only thing separating them.

After leaving the park, they had drove for what seemed like hours, until the sun had completely set and the dark blanket of night enveloped the skyline.

She'd explained how she hadn't been able to go through with it. How she'd called Steve -that he had come to her. Then they'd talked on the side of the road and he kept asking why. And throughout it all he seemed more concerned with how this made him look than how it made him feel.

After a period of silent contemplation, he had offered her a place to stay for the night. Clearly, she couldn't go home and even facing Cece seemed too much, such were her fluctuating emotions. She wanted to hide away. At least until she had to face the real world again.

So here she stood, in her silk wedding dress, waiting for him to say something.

"Do you want something else to wear?" he asked.

She looked down at her dress. Its hem was frayed and the ivory color was peppered with dirt marks. "That would be a good idea. Thanks." He left the room and she sat awkwardly on the sofa, kicking off her shoes as she waited for him to return.

When he did in his hands were a Bears T-shirt and a pair of grey boxers. "This is the best I can do," he apologized with a smile.

"Thanks," she said, taking the things from him, "Can I…?"

He pointed to a door, just down the corridor, "The bathroom's there, if you want to change."

Nodding, she stood up and crept towards it. Her heart pounding as a sudden wave of nerves came over her.

* * *

The TV was on when she returned; he was absentmindedly flicking through the channels, a beer in hand.

"Hey," she said as she joined him, sitting at the other side of the couch. He looked her up and down appreciatively as she settled – the clothes were far too big and succeeded in making her appear even smaller than she was. Also, it didn't hurt that she was wearing his clothes. There was something about a woman wearing a man's clothing. Lying back, she tucked her long, pale legs underneath her and settled against the overstuffed cushions.

"Do you-?" He held up the bottle and she nodded.

"I think after the day I've had, that may be a good idea."

He returned with the drink and sat back down again.

They both stared blankly ahead at the movie that was playing on screen, some old vampire horror with cheap props and even worse acting. Eventually, he let out a small laugh and shook his head, "Well, this was unexpected."

She laughed nervously in reply. "You could say that." Their eyes met before quickly breaking away. Neither really sure what to do now. Now that they were alone.

The frenzy and passion of their meeting at the pier had petered out into cool awareness of the situation they found themselves in. She had ended her relationship, told him she wanted him and now? Now they were alone. For the first time in as long as either could remember.

He let his head roll back on the on the couch and turn to her. She was squinting as she tried to watch the TV.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied with a sigh, "I took out my contacts, they were bothering me." She rubbed her eyes and took a sip of beer.

He shifted so her was facing her, "Well, we don't have to watch TV. We can do something else. I mean, if you want to."

Resting the bottle in her lap, she pushed her hair over her shoulder, "What did you have in mind?" His face broke out in a self-conscious smile.

Something clicked in the moment. She wanted him. He knew it too. But each hesitated. Waiting for the other to make the first move. It was her in the end.

Dropping her beer, slowly- hesitantly, she leaned forward. At the same time he reached out and slid his hand to cup her face, his thumb resting on her cheek whilst his fingers caressed the skin behind her ears.

Her eyes rolled back in pleasure whilst she pursed her lips. His touch felt like pinpricks of fire upon her skin. She drank in a deep breath of air fragranced with his scent – soap, cologne and something intangibly male and musky. Instinctively her fingers found their way to his hips and hooked into the belt loops of his jeans, using this as leverage to pull herself closer to him. Pausing, she steeled herself for what was to come next.

But it wasn't what she expected. She gasped when she felt his fingers begin to trace the outline of her face, her cheeks and her lips. Her eyes flashed open and locked with his.

"You're so beautiful."

Bashfully, she tried to dip her head but he held his gaze steady. "Really, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

Inside she felt something drop, hitting the floor as the air was knocked out of her lungs. How did he make her feel like this with just a simple touch and a few words? Blinking, she slowly parted her lips and brought them to meet his.

When they touched she placed a small -almost chaste - kiss upon his, pulling back instantly as though she was scared of his reaction. Why was she so worried? These were lips she had kissed a thousand times before. She stifled a nervous laugh and began again, bringing one hand up to grasp his neck and bring him closer.

Her lips, why did they feel so different? He knew them so well, every curve. Yet now it felt like they were something new and unknown; exciting to explore but scary as hell. Something had changed.

She seemed to hesitate a little at first. Was she was experiencing the same emotions? A desperate yearning crossed with the fear of what they had promised each other. A fear that something could go wrong at any moment.

His hesitation was brief. Within seconds his hands had enveloped her waist and brought her closer. She sat on her heels, pushing herself up towards him, deeper into his arms.

Drowning in her kisses, he clung to her tightly as if this was the only way to prove she was real and he hadn't dreamt the last few hours. Waves of emotion washed over him, competing for his attention, but all he could focus on was her lips.

Rolling her body into his she let him take the lead, his hands grasping her waist, his breath hot on her mouth. They both paused, taking in sinking, heaving breaths as they watched each other.

Keeping his eyes on her, he took his thumb and began to draw it down the curve of her neck before hooking it into her shirt. Pulling it down, he revealed a smooth, creamy shoulder and worked a trail of kisses along its surface. A tingle shot down her spine and she dug her fingers into his hair, urging him to continue.

Urgently he grabbed at the neckline of the shirt, pulling it with both hands until it tore with a satisfying rip, revealing acres more skin for him to explore.

Desperate to be closer, she shifted onto his lap, wrapping her legs around him. His hands moved to her back, supporting her middle as she leaned her weight into them and allowed him to continue his trail of kisses down the valley between her breasts.

This. She'd missed this. Their experience in the closet all those weeks ago had been fast, frenzied and desperate. Amazing and passionate as it was, this was on a different level. Slow, burning, powerful-feeling - like he had all the time in the world and wanted to relish every second; to enjoy her.

She found herself slowly slipping back as his hands returned to finish its work on the shirt until it lay open, just a scrap of material covering the tops of her arms. His breathing slowed, running his hand across her warm stomach.

"I love you," he whispered.

She bit her lip before replying, "I know," and used her hands to urge him to continue. Reaching down he pulled away his shirt and tossed it to the floor, resting himself on her, pressing his hips down into her own. The sensation of skin against skin made her thoughts freeze as he kissed her again. Without pausing, he reached his hands to her breasts, softly massaging them and teasing her nipples until she let out a small moan of pleasure.

She wanted to speak but the words wouldn't form in her throat. Instead she began to undo the buttons of his jeans, kissing him more urgently. She didn't want to wait any more. They'd waited so long.

"Now, please..." she finally managed to stutter into his ear as she pushed down his pants.

He stopped and pushed himself up on his arms, shaking his head, "Not here," he replied raspily. Standing, he kicked off his jeans and picked her up, swinging her arm over his shoulder.

She felt like she was light as a feather in his arms: it was another thing she had missed. Nick Miller had never resisted the opportunity to make her feel feminine and lay down his masculine status. There was something slightly fairy tale about a man carrying a woman in his arms.

Within seconds they reached the bedroom. Her eyes quickly scanned the room - moving boxes were piled up along one wall and two suitcases lay open on the floor. "Sorry," he apologized with a half-smile, "Didn't know I was going to have company." She let out a warm laugh.

Carefully he lay her down on the bed, peeling off the remains of the t-shirt. She sat on his bed, clothed only in a pair of his boxers, looking up at him shyly and his heart melted. "Come here you," he smiled, moving next to her. They lay together for a moment. It was like time had paused then slipped back. Chicago, Steve, the break up - were all distant memories and all that mattered were their two bodies.

They molded to each other, eeking out the last moments of restraint before neither could take it anymore. Their remaining clothing was quickly shed as she moved up the bed and he lay beside her.

"Are you cold sweetheart?" he asked, noticing the tiny shudder running over her. She shook her head.

"I'm - I'm scared," her eyes closed, "I mean, I just - I just l-love you so much and-"

He silenced her fears with his mouth. Rolling over onto her, he settled between her legs and moved himself tantalizingly close to her welcoming warmth.  
"It's you and me, against the world Jess. Don't worry."

She gasped as he pushed into her, her insides instantly cascading into ripples of pleasure at his touch, filling her, making her ache and want more and more. Breath shuddering, she clamped her legs and arms around him. "Nick," she cried into his shoulder.

Starting a smooth rhythym, he kissed her softly on the cheek. He felt her grow soft and pliant in his arms, pushing into his firm thrusts and tilting her hips against his. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, sending another peal of electricity through her. Was it like this before? Her mind struggled to think. It had too much to process right then.

"God I've missed this," he murmured.

"Me too," she replied reaching up her mouth to lay kisses against the light covering of hair on his chest.

The pent up passion of weeks and months, years of separation all came crescending together at once. She arched her back as she felt her stomach tighten and twist, the friction of his movements sending her body in spasm, shuddering and riding out the waves.

When he felt her tighten around him, he finally let himself go. Removing the last restraints he had built in his mind he let the full pleasure of the moment flood his body, spilling out into every fiber, his body tingling in response.

He rested his head on the pillow beside her for a moment as he caught his breath. He looked over at her and smiled shyly. "Hi," he said nervously as he pushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Hi," she replied, her eyes sparkling. Shifting out from her, he lay on the bed beside her, not breaking his gaze.

"I've missed you so much," he said quietly.

"Me too," she nodded, running her hand through his hair. "Promise me we are going to make this work. Promise me things won't turn out like last time..."

He swung his arm over her and hugged her close, "Unfortunately life doesn't give you those guarantees Jess. But I can promise you that I will never stop loving you and never stop trying to make you happy."

A soft smile on her lips, she lay against his chest and let sleep take her, quickly moving into the regular pattern of drowsy breathing.

As she slept, he watched her chest rise and fall and the occasional fluttering of her lashes as she dreamt. This still seemed like a dream to him, but it must be real. Once more she was his, they were a pair, a couple. He had his other half back.

* * *

**Aftermath**

* * *

She stood under the pulsating stream of water, letting the torrents pour down over her. The remains of her wedding make up began to drip down her face, streams of mascara mixed with the peachy tint of foundation washing away; dripping into the drain at her feet.

Sodden, her hair had twisted into a thick rope as it hung low on her back between her shoulder blades. Mixed with the water, it had become a fluid, silken mass. She searched the small shelf in the shower stall and selected a bottle of shampoo which she lazily began to massage into her hair. The suds began to slide slowly down her back, tickling her skin.

"Jess, you okay? Need anything?"

His voice came from behind the bathroom door. Since waking up almost an hour ago, Nick had been very coy – shy almost – around her. He'd slipped out of the bed before she had time to say good morning; returning with a tray of tea, toast and fruit. Nervously he'd chatted while she ate – apologizing for having no milk, asking her how she slept. When he had taken away the empty dishes she had dashed down the hall to take a much needed shower.

"I'm okay…Nick, you don't have to talk through the door. You can come in."

Slowly, the door creaked open and he entered the room, standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets as she rinsed the final residue from her hair.

"How's your shower?"

"Mmm, great, thank you."

With a twist of the chrome handle, she stopped the flow of water and pushed open the door, stepping out onto the thick rug that covered the black tiled floor. He dropped his eyes. She smiled as she pulled her towel from the silver rail to her left.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she tucked the towel around her body.

"Uh, yeah, of course, I mean I…" He fumbled for words. Trying to think, he watched as thick drops of water fell from her hair as it hung around her shoulders. It was almost hypnotic. "I guess I just feel a little- weird."

"Weird?" she laughed, feeling the tension around them start to deflate.

"Yeah," he shrugged, pushing out his bottom lip a little.

"So is this making you feel weird?" She bugged out her eyes and then stuck out her tongue. "Or is it this?" she continued, pulling her face into a crazy frown. "Or maybe it's this?" Quickly, she pulled away her towel and flashed one boob before quickly covering it up.

His mask of awkwardness shattered as he began to laugh, "You're crazy!" he cried, shaking his head.

"Hey, you're the one who said you felt weird. That was kinda offensive…"

"Hey, hey," he replied, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer until their hips met, "You know what I mean." Leaning down, he gave her a slow, sensual kiss; his fingers bunching into the soft cotton of the towel.

Nodding, she sighed, "Yeah." She leaned into him, placing her cheek on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat as it pounded against his ribcage; a soft regular thud. He felt warm and comforting - his arms securing her in place. She relaxed, letting her body melt into his. "And you know it's going to be weird, for a while at least. And other people are going to find it weird too. But I don't care. Because I believe in us. I'm done pretending I don't."

"You're right, I know." He kissed her lightly on the top of her head. "I guess I still can't believe this is happening. We've wasted so much time…"

With a small smile, she wriggled free from his embrace and looked up at him, "We have. And at some point today we have to face reality. But for now," she dropped her towel, "Let's just forget about it all."

"I like your thinking." Leisurely, his large hands began to wind their way around her back and to the sloping curve of her waist. She sighed and tucked her hands into the waistband of his track pants.

"And I think we've wasted enough time talking. Clothes off. Now."

And with a twisting smile on his face, he obliged.

* * *

They lay lazily together in the late morning sun, arms and legs intertwined, enjoying the feel of skin upon skin. Every second of just them was a blessing. Every minute they cherished, revelling in the feeling of just being together. The silence was comforting and for once, their minds were at rest. Not buzzing with ifs and whats. Just accepting. Of course this didn't last.

It was the shrill tone of a phone ringing that broke the spell. They glanced at each other. He gave her a lopsided smile and a sigh of resignation.

Certainly, there was a chance that this was a business call for Nick, or maybe just a buddy checking in who was not party to the events of the previous day. However, they both knew that was unlikely and actually this was the beginning of the aftermath. Which would in turn lead to the real beginning of them.

Tapping his phone to accept the call, he brought it to his ear.

As she pushed herself upright she mouthed, "Who is it?"

The phone was grasped in her hand as he whispered in reply, "Cece."

She felt her stomach sink slightly.  _So now it begins_ , she thought.

* * *

He watched, tense, as Jess spoke to her friend. She saw her eyes moisten, the conversation punctuated by 'uh-huh's and the occasional sniff. It must have been only a minute or so later when Jess said, "Okay, bye." The phone dropped limply from her hand and she sat still for a moment. Nick just watched her, unsure what to do.

"My mom wants to see me, actually Dad does too, before they drive back to Portland tonight." He reached his hand across the bed and clasped it around hers.

"You okay?"

She turned and looked at him, her eyes slightly red and glassy. "Yes. I am, I just ..." She didn't need to finish. He knew that as happy as they were and would be, in this moment there were practicalities they needed to deal with.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, still clutching her hand.

"Um," she paused, unsure, "No, I think maybe it'd be better if... How about you just drive me? I don't have my car," she finished with a weary smile.

Not knowing what to do, he wrapped his other arm around her and hugged her close.

* * *

Cece, God bless Cece! Less than an hour before Jess needed to meet her parents, her now defunct maid of honor had arrived at Nick's door clutching two large suitcases of clothing and personal items. She drank coffee with Nick whilst Jess changed, pulling on a pair of dark blue jeans and a blue and white striped shirt.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Cece asked as she sipped her drink.

Nick eyed the other woman. He couldn't lie. "Honestly? No." He placed his cup down. "But I know this is the first thing I've done that feels right in a long time.

This answer seemed to satisfy her curiosity and she made her excuses and left, promising to call Jess that evening.

* * *

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked as she went to reach for the handle to release the door.

"Of course," she leant across the center console and placed a kiss in his cheek, "Just come back for me in like an hour, okay?"

He nodded silently and she slipped out of the car into the light rain that had descended that afternoon. Moving quickly, she dove into Peter's Bakery, a small cafe near the hotel where their out of town guests had been staying. It was warm inside, the windows were misted up with steam and the whole room smelled of fresh bread and sweet pastries.

It only took her a few moments to find the table where her parents sat. Her mom was easy to spot, dressed head to toe in shades of lime and apple green; one of her signature artistic scarves sat sloppily around her neck. She waved at Jess with an encouraging smile.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad," Jess greeted them as she sat down. Her father's expression was indecipherable. He had this way of making his face almost neutral - like he wasn't really there. But she'd learned in high school that this was often his way of lulling you into a false sense of security. This was often a precursor to a signature Bob Day blowout.

She fumbled with her napkin as Joan poured her a glass of water. "So..." she began.

"So..." Joan echoed, a smile never leaving her lips.

"So? So?" Bob boomed, his poker face breaking, "Is that the best you two can come up with?"

Joan leaned close to her ex husband and whispered tersely, "Bob, I swear if you make a scene, I will kill you."

He shuffled a little in his chair as Jess looked from one parent to the next.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, feeling a little bubble of anxiety rise in her chest.

"Oh honey," Joan soothed, "You have nothing to be sorry about." Jess felt the tears begin to drip from the corners of her eyes.

"I think the ten thousand dollars I spent on this waste of time would say differently," Bob scowled under his breath.

Her breath began to hitch a little as she spoke, "I'm sorry I disappointed you, I'm sorry I embarrassed you, I..."

Joan pushed her chair closer to her daughter and held her close, "Hush, now stop that. Since when have I ever cared what people think?" Jess had to smile, that at least was true.

Dabbing her eyes with her napkin, she looked over at her father, "Daddy, I'm sorry. I'll pay you back, I promise, as soon as I can. But I couldn't, I just couldn't do it."

His features softened at little as he looked at his daughters glassy eyes and pink nose. "Look, I shouldn't have snapped at you. You know I love you pumpkin. But I just hope you haven't made a mistake. I mean, what now?"

She realized then that her parents did not yet know the full story. Clearly no one had mentioned Nick. Actually, it made sense - only really Cece and Schmidt knew. Even her father, who had been in the car on the way to church, thought she had simply changed her mind.

"Mom, Dad, there's something I need to tell you. I didn't marry Steve because I knew it would have been a huge mistake. But more than that - I realized I was in love with someone else."

The air became thick with tension as they waited waited for Jess to finish.

"I'm in love with Nick. Nick Miller."

Joan's mouth dropped open in surprise while Bob's face twisted into an angry snarl, "That no good bartender bum you used to date? Really Jess? Can't you do better?"

Jess felt her anxiety turn to anger at Bob's attack. "Actually,  _Dad_ , Nick hasn't been a bartender for years. He has his own business. His own  _successful_  business. Not that that should matter in the slightest."

"But Jess, he's a loser. Always will be. You said as much yourself when-"

"Dad, I swear to you, stop. Do you think I want to be in this situation? Really? But I'm a big girl -Old enough to decide who I will date and who I will, or will not, marry!" She felt her mother's hand grasp her wrist and the soothing effect of her touch.

"Honey, does he make you happy?"

Looking at her mother, she nodded.

At that moment Nick emerged from the street into the cafe, in his hand Jess's phone. "Hey, you left this in the car." He gave a curt nod to Jess's parents, "Joan. Bob."

"Um, oh, yeah. Actually Nick, I think I'm ready to leave now." She stood and dropped her now balled up napkin on the table, "You need to accept that this has happened, Dad. That I love Nick and this is real. Call me when you can speak to me normally." She reached down and gave her mother a hug, "Love you Mom."

Joan whispered in her ear, "Follow you heart."

Jess smiled at her mothers words, feeling Cece's bracelet cold against her arm. Before she let go and followed Nick back into the afternoon air.

* * *

"Now what?" he said as she slid into the car seat.

"Well, now I wait for my dad to get over it. He will. He's just stubborn."

Nick nodded. "Okay but, well, what about us, what are we going to do?"

She stared at him, suddenly realizing she hadn't thought this through very well. She couldn't go home - did she even have a home now? And all she possessed at the moment was two suitcases worth of clothes and sundries.

"I'm not sure, having never left a groom on the day of the wedding before," her words sounded trite but they each understood the meaning behind them. "How about we go back, have dinner and talk. It's okay if I stay with you until all this mess is resolved, right?"

"Of course," he smiled as he slipped the car into drive. In fact, he couldn't think of anything he wanted more.

* * *

**Closure**

* * *

"You look, wow, great Jess," Cece gazed in wonder at her friend's bright complexion and flushed cheeks. "You're glowing."

Jess blushed a deeper shade of pink as she sat down in the soft velvet armchair, hidden in the corner of an artsy downtown coffee shop. "It's crazy huh?" She pulled the cup of tea that was waiting for her into her hands and met eyes with Cece. "I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and-" She dipped her eyes as a smile played at the edges of her mouth.

"And?" Cece asked, with raised eyebrows.

"And…" she burst into a small giggle and bit her lip, "And it's amazing. I mean I can't believe I almost…"

"But you didn't," Cece interjected, reaching for Jess's hand, "And that was brave, Jess."

Jess slid her tongue along her bottom lip as she listened to her friend speak. It was brave. She knew that now. But there were other things on her mind. The soft bubble of chatter in the coffee shop seemed to fade away as she fell into her own thoughts.

"I feel guilty, Cece. I know I did the right thing for me and for him - but, you know." She gave Cece a small one-sided smile and took a deep breath before having a sip of her tea.

"Yeah. And I get that, and in a way, you should feel that way. What you did was huge and not without repercussions. But you only feel guilty because you're a good person Jess."

Silently Jess nodded in reply. Her hand dipped into her pocket and her fingers closed around its contents.

"Have you seen Steve?"

Shaking her head Jess she replied, "No. Just the occasional text. I got the rest of my things yesterday when he was at work. Nick's living room is stacked three deep in boxes now." She smirked at the memory of Nick arriving home last night to the cardboard city that was once a living space. They skipped a movie and dinner and headed straight to bed. "But I'm actually meeting him in an hour, to give him this." She scooped the velvet box from her pocket and placed it on the glossy wooden table.

Cece picked up the small box and shuffled it between her hands before snapping open the box and glancing at the contents. "Pretty," she whispered sadly.

"Yeah, I guess," Jess replied, taking back the ring and placing it in her purse. "I'm nervous," she admitted as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What if he gets mad, what if he-"

"Jess, relax. Take a deep breath." Jess did as instructed.

"Okay. Okay, I can do this."

Cece smiled and shuffled a little closer to her friend. "Good, because before you go, I want details."

"Details?" Jess asked.

"Uh, details - explicit details. You've been holed up in that apartment for nearly three days. I know what you two are like."

Jess's face lit up and she grinned sheepishly, "Well, since you asked…"

* * *

Steve stood stiffly outside his office as Jess approached. He was wearing a steel grey suit – the one he wore when he had an important client meeting. His hands were in front of him; he was rubbing one with the other as he looked straight ahead. Around his neck she noticed the Hugo Boss tie she'd bought him last Christmas. She felt herself deflate a little.

"Steve."

"Jess," he nodded when she reached his side. "You look well."

"Thanks… So-so do you." She shuffled awkwardly on her feet before reaching into her purse. "These are yours."

He reached out and took the items she offered – a key and the small, velvet box containing her engagement ring. Silently he stuffed them in his pants pocket, before following them with his hands and turning to face her.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out and he took in a sharp intake of breath. "I never wanted to hurt you."

He nodded and rocked slightly on his heels.

"Really, I mean, I never- it's just I, I mean, Nick- we, um. Well-"

"Jess, save it. I thought I knew you. I thought we wanted the same things. But I guess that was all a lie-"

She reached forward and tried to grab his arms, but he shrugged her away, "No, Steve, that's not-"

"I'm not interested. It's over. And I'm disappointed in you. We're done here. Please, just leave me alone."

Jess watched in disbelief as he walked away, leaving her alone on the busy street. Suddenly she was overwhelmed with sadness and hot tears began to sting her eyes.

* * *

As he walked through the apartment door Nick pulled off his coat and made his way into the living room. A path had been cleared through the high stacks of boxes and he could just make out the top of her head peeking over the back of the sofa.

"Jess?" he cried, as he picked a bottle of water from the fridge and padded over to where she sat.

She didn't reply but looked up at him with red rimmed eyes and a tear stained face.

"Hey, babe, what's wrong?" Slipping into the space beside her, he laid his arm around her shoulder and held her close.

She sighed and spoke into his chest, "I saw Steve."

"Oh," Nick replied, rubbing her back with one palm. "What? Did he hurt you Jess?"

"No," she shook her head, "No. Actually he wasn't even mad, really. He kinda called me a liar and said he was disappointed and-" she sucked in a breath as she felt another wave of tears was imminent.

"Shhh," he hushed as she sank closer into him.

"I just hate the fact that he thinks that. You know I didn't mean for all of this to happen."

His hands reached to cup her face and he tilted her head so their eyes met. "Jess, he has every right to think that. What we did, it wasn't great."

"I know but, hmph." She sighed again and her shoulders slouched, her nose was pink from crying. He smiled as he pushed away a tear from her cheek.

"Jess, I love the fact that you care so much. I love the fact you want to make everything right - for everyone to like you. But, something I've learned is, that's not possible. We're all just stumbling through life. And sometimes we make mistakes. And sometimes those mistakes lead to something good." He kissed her softly and felt her smile under his lips.

"I know you're right Nick. I just never wanted to hurt anyone."

He traced the contours of her cheek with his thumb as he stared into her soft blue eyes. "I know. And you are a good person. And I promise, I'm going to make all this worthwhile. Because I love you."

She closed her eyes and slipped her hands onto his chest. "You're great. Thank you."

"I try," he laughed.

Slowly he started to kiss her again and began to dip her back against the couch's buttery leather surface. "Ouch," she cried, rubbing her head as it made contact with a stray packing box.

"Damn, you okay?" he asked, concerned.

Wincing, she replied, "Yeah. We need to do something about these. I think I need to find an apartment."

"You could stay here," he offered and looked at her expectantly.

"That's sweet, but it's not really big enough." She tilted her head, pausing for a minute, and looked at him quizzically, "But how about we get our own place?"

"Our own place?" he repeated.

Nodding she continued, "Yeah. You and me. I think we've wasted enough time."

"I think that's the best idea I have heard in a very long time." He pushed away the offending box and laid her back against the couch. "And now, I think I need to see a smile on that pretty face." His lips sought out the soft skin of her neck as she let out a soft peal of happy, satisfied laugher.

* * *

**Reflections**

* * *

Part 1 - Beginnings

_Nick_

"So, do you need any help with your boxes or anything?"

Nick Miller stood awkwardly in the doorway of the bare room across the hallway from his own. He watched as a woman he had only known for 48 hours deposited a large brown cardboard box in the middle of the polished wooden floor.

She stood up and used one finger to push up the thick frames of her glasses that had begun to slip down the soft curve of her nose. Her wavy hair bounced lazily around her shoulders, highlighting their bareness and the thin straps of pretty blue sundress she wore.

"Um, thanks – that would be great, Nick. Or do you prefer Nicholas?"

"Nick's fine," he replied with a smile.

"Great, so the van's downstairs. Are you free now?"

She ended her request with a huge, glowing smile; warm and opening.  _Was she always this happy?_  He thought as he nodded in reply. As she went to turn away he noticed how blue her eyes were – how hadn't he noticed that before. They were crazy blue.

She continued to talk as he followed her down the hallway- her words stretching into one long babble of noise as she chatted quickly. For his part his concentration was fixed on watching the gentle swing of her hips and pleasing curve of her legs as she walked.  _Maybe living with a girl won't be so bad._

_Jess_

_You are babbling. You are going to scare the crap out of this guy when he has only known you for five minutes! Tone it down._

"So, just let me open the door…" she said as she fumbled in her purse for the keys to the small U-Haul truck parked just outside the loft. "Crap," she muttered as her phone fell onto the concrete curb with a crash followed by her lip gloss, compact and the entire contents of her favourite blue satchel.

She knelt down and started scrambling to collect her things, quickly joined by Nick who had been only a step or two behind her. In a few seconds she had hooked the keys on her index finger and tossed the other items in the bag. As they stood, Nick held something out to her.

"Um, here's your…" his voice trailed off as she looked at what was in his hands. "Candy?" he tried.

Her cheeks colored as she snatched the tampon from his hands and stuffed in under the flap of the purse.  _Going for full-on embarrassment, Jessica. Bravo._ "Thanks," she whispered.

Finally, gratefully she pressed the button that released the rear doors. They both moved around to the back of the van and Nick began to pull boxes out onto the sidewalk.

"I'll take the two biggest ones. Do you just want to wait here while I take one up and then I'll be back?"

"Uh-huh, sure," she nodded. She moved back and rested against a fire hydrant as she watched Nick arrange the boxes. His flannel shirt strained against the muscles of his back as he lifted a large box filled with books.

"I'll be a few minutes," he said with a smile. She found herself smiling back. He was kinda cute. She hadn't noticed it before. Of course, he was the exact opposite of Spencer. Not her type at all. But that dark hair and scruff. Yeah, she could see how that could be nice.

Looking upwards at the blue framed windows of her new building, she let out a satisfied sigh.

_Maybe living with these guys won't be so bad._

Part 2 - Acceptance

Her feet throbbed. That amazing idea to wear heels to work had backfired in spectacular fashion. When would she learn that ten hour days chasing middle schoolers and three inch heels do not mix?

Kicking the instruments of torture to one side, she balled her toes and stretched her arches, letting out a satisfied, 'ahhhh', as her swollen feet were released.

"Sweetheart, is that you?"

An instantaneous smile lit up her face as she heard his voice. It still gave her a little lift every time. She wanted to pinch herself.

Loosening the buttons of her thick wool coat, she hung it on the stand beside the door and headed quickly in the direction of the voice.

She found him in the kitchen, still dressed in his white pinstriped work shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He had his back to her as he worked at something on the stove. Quietly, she crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Well this is a lovely surprise."

Turning around, he flashed her a megawatt grin and cupped her face with his hands, dipping down for a lingering, smoldering kiss.

"Hello beautiful," he said, finishing by touching his lips to the tip of her nose. "I thought I'd surprise you."

"Mmmm, pasta?" she asked as she peeped over his shoulders at the pots bubbling quietly away.

"Mm, hmm," he replied, keeping his gaze on her face. She felt her body warm through – any remaining chill that lingered from the winter air outside melted away as a satisfying tingle went down her spine. "Now," he kissed her sweetly on the cheek, "There is a bottle of rose with your name on it in the living room. Go have a glass while I finish up."

"Yes sir," she joked with a mini salute before he released her and she sauntered away.

When she was halfway through her glass of pinot grigio rose, he finally joined her, carrying a bowl of steaming pasta which he began to distribute between two white porcelain dishes; ones they had bought to celebrate moving in together. They made small talk as they began to eat.

"This is amazing Nick – how did I not know you could cook? I mean, before... and now…"

"Well," he said as he placed his fork down, "You haven't given me the chance to show you Jess! But I do admit the most I could cook when I lived in 4D was toaster strudel." She laughed at the truth in his words –a recollection of Nick spending a whole week eating a box of frozen burritos sprang to her mind. "But I've learned a few things since then."

"You have indeed!" Jess quipped, loaded with innuendo. This time it was Nick's turn to laugh. "It's weird how you're the same but also you're not. Do you know what I mean?"

"Kinda." Pausing, he placed his forearms on the either side of his plate. The room became quiet – the only sound the faint ticking of the clock that hung on the wall behind him. "We've changed, Jess. Both of us. If these past three months have taught me anything it's that." She nodded silently, wrapping her fingers around the delicate stem of her glass. "And this is going to sound crazy but," he took a deep breath, "I'm glad we broke up. I could have never become the man I am today – a man good enough for you – if we hadn't."

She stared at the man she was crazy in love with – she could see her own love and affection reflected in his shining eyes. A ball of emotion became lodged in her throat. She knew he was right. Reaching over the table, she took hold of his hand and interlaced her fingers with his.

"Jess, the thing is, I've been thinking – about us and where we are now and where we've come from and I want to apologize. When we first got together, I was a mess in so many ways. I mean, I wanted to be good for you, I really did. But I guess you don't really appreciate what you could lose until you do lose it."

Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes; this honesty was hard, but true and affecting at the same time. Slowly she pushed back her chair and moved her body until she was sitting in his lap: her head nuzzled against his neck, one hand thumbing the soft cotton of his shirt.

"I love you," she sighed, "And I loved you then. My heart still hurts from all that time apart – I don't think it will ever stop. We wasted so much time…" Her voice trailed off as she tilted her head backwards so she could see his face. "But I don't care. Because I've got you now. And that's all that matters."

The meal forgotten, their lips joined together in a searing embrace of passion, regrets, love and hope.

Part Three – Contentment

_Six months later_

His arms stretched behind him, he leaned back enjoying the warm California sun as it radiated against his skin. The salty air filled his lungs and stung his cheeks – the breeze over the Pacific was unusually harsh today, but he didn't care. The sun was shining and he was with his girl, enjoying a lazy spring afternoon at the beach.

She sat to his side, her hands sunk into the sand as her hair danced in the moving currents of air. Over her sundress she wore a loose, yellow cardigan that contrasted against the darkness of her curls. He felt content. Yes, that was it. Content. He never wanted this moment to end – wished he could pack it into a bottle so he could take it out and relive it anytime he wanted.

"Hey," she smiled as she turned to face him, her cheeks glowing. "Come here," she commanded. Sitting up, he shuffled closer. She took one of his hands and placed it over the large bump that was no longer hidden by her cardigan. He jumped a little as he felt a sharp kick. "Someone likes the beach."

"Wow, they certainly do," he wondered as he moved his other hand until both lovingly cradled her swollen belly. He bent down until his mouth was close to her, "Hey little guy, give your mom a break, you've still got a couple of months before you can come to the beach. You gotta get out of there first!"

"Nick!" she laughed as she ruffled his hair with her hand, before placing it herself on her stomach. She settled into him, placing her head in his lap. His fingers ran lazily through her hair as she watched the clouds and soaring sea birds glide by. "Can we just stay here forever?" she asked.

"I wish…" he replied, before pausing and reaching over to small bag they had brought with them.

"What's up?"

He fumbled for a few seconds before smiling in relief. Slowly, he traced the outline of her face, gazing into her eyes. "I wish I could make this moment last forever – be here with you. But, since I can't I have another idea." She narrowed her eyes as he helped her up so they were face to face. "Jessica, I love you. You have made my life complete and now I can't imagine you not in it." He reached back into the bag and pulled out a faded red velvet ring box. Her heart began to pound rapidly- blood rushing through her veins – as she waited for him to continue. "You've made so happy. You're making me a father. Let me make you happy - for the rest of your life. Will you be my wife?"

On cue, he flipped open the box. Her eyes widened in surprise. For a few seconds she couldn't speak and Nick could feel the color draining from him with every passing moment.

"Jess, you're killin' me here…"

The words broke the spell and she flung her arms around his neck, "Yes, yes of course I will!" He tightly held her in his arms for a minute, letting her words wash over him. She said yes.

With shaking hands, he pulled the sapphire and diamond ring from its box. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

"It was my grandma's," he told her as he slipped it on her finger, "My mom gave it to me when we went back at Christmas."

"You mean all this time?"

He nodded. "I've wanted to ask you for a while -I've been carrying it around ever since. But then we found out you were pregnant and that seemed more important… But today is a perfect day and I want to remember it forever."

"Well, I guess that's something else new about you. You've learned to keep a secret!"

He laughed, "I guess. But it's no secret I love you."

They cuddled together for another hour or so, watching the sun start to lower, families playing in the sand, pleasure boats out in the bay.

_It was indeed a perfect day._

Part Four - Fulfillment

"Daddy."

Nick had barely stepped a foot inside the doorway when he was pounced upon by four year old Molly Miller. She was dressed in pink overalls; her curly blonde hair pulled into pigtails fastened with bumble bee shaped hair ties.

"Daddy, will you play with me?"

In her hand she held her favorite teddy, Winston (named after her favorite uncle). Smiling, he scooped her up into his arms.

"Sure honey, what do you want to play?" Her mouth twisted and her eyes widened.

"Hide seek!" she screamed.

Laughing, he set her down, "Okay, you go hide."

The little girl tottered away as quickly as her small legs would carry her. He walked into the lounge – the dining table was scattered with papers and books; Jess bringing work home again.

"Sweetheart?" he called out. Loosening his tie he began to make a pot of coffee. He could still hear Molly searching for a hiding place.

"Dad!"

Nick jumped in fright. Behind him stood Adam, his oldest child. He was wearing his basketball uniform.

"Hey, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Nick told his son, ruffling his hair. "Good practice today?"

Adam nodded as he reached into the fridge for a carton of milk "Yep, Coach Murphy said I'm a dead cert for the third grade team!"

"Well, put your hand here, son," he reached up and high fived him, "Next stop NBA!"

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled in reply, between gulps of milk.

"Where's your mom?"

Adam pointed towards the staircase.

Nick headed up towards their room, pausing outside Molly's room to smile at her not so great attempt at hiding under her bed, her chubby legs poking out in plain view, "Hmm, I wonder where Molly could be." He heard her chuckle sweetly.

Finally he found her, she was in the middle of changing – fastening a crisp white shirt. "Hey, you're home."

"Yep," he reached and gave her a small kiss. "Good day?"

"You know, it was," she paused dramatically, "I found out I got my promotion – you are looking at the new assistant vice principal!"

"Oh honey, that's amazing!" She laughed as he picked her up and spun her around. "So does that mean I get to be a kept man now? You know that's my dream."

"Shut up," she laughed. "But I will splurge for dinner tonight. Special occasion."

"Hmm, really," he moaned, moving closer until their lips almost touched, "I can think of some others ways to celebrate. Well, one in particular-"

"Urgh! Mom! Dad! That's gross!"

They spun around to see their son stood in the doorway looking at them in disgust. In that moment he was joined by a yawning Molly, "Daddy, when are you coming to play?"

He gave his wife an apologetic smile and kissed her on the cheek, "Rain check?" he whispered. With a smile, she nodded then watched her husband leave the room, hands over his eyes, counting as Molly ran to hide.

_How did I get so lucky?_ She asked herself as slipped on her shoes and followed her family downstairs.

_**THE END** _


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